Dirty Laundry
by p y n q u e
Summary: Everyone's got some dirty laundry. The Jellicles certainly do. Cheating, love triangles, and secret lives are all around you. You just have to find your place, and hold on tight. / / abandoned.
1. Round one

**Notes: **Ah, the first official chapter!

Presto has a weird train of thought. Just a warning. Also, Presto may seem OOC in this chapter—but, hey, how would you act if you were joining the Jellicles by yourself, because you simply want to? (Hm, an OC being OOC. Bad writing, man. Pity me?)

Excuse my typos, I corrected stuff at like three in the morning. I probably will only have notes at the end of chapters from now on. So let's get this out of the way: I do not own Cats. Blanket disclaimer.

**Presto's information is on my profile. Read it at your own risk-it's long.**

Enjoy!

**P.S. I dedicate this story to **rawrrkitty**, for reading all of Presto's info and offering my tips on making her a**

**sparkly new and awesome character. I'd also like to dedicate this to **raptoregg **and **sensesfaillxx.

**you rock. :D**

* * *

The sunlight poured in from between the shades, waking me. Groaning, I snapped my eyes open in that way that scares Madigan so much, and stretched. I got a horrible night's sleep. I was too busy thinking. Too busy thinking about what I was going to do today…

Yawning, I hopped from my perch by the window, startled by a yelp. "Fuck, Presto!" Petri hissed, holding her—oh, I mean "his"—tail.

"Sorry, wimp."

"Hey, it's not my fault." _Not your fault you're a wimp? _I thought, glaring at him. Chicken. "I don't even get why you're doing this, though—"

"Petri!" came Katherine's voice, furious, and a little screechy.

"Oh, what did you do this time?" I teased, elbowing him. He smirked, his chest puffed out like a proud pigeon.

"I took her earring. Gotta go." He said, before bulleting away, and out the door that Madigan was currently opening.

"Petri!" Katherine screamed again, coming into view. She was _livid_. In a swift movement, she kneeled in front of me. I could just see the bloodlust in her eyes. I put on my best innocent kitten face. "Presto," she started, pointing to her ear. I observed that one had a purple earring in it—It was called tanzanite or something, I think she said her uncle got her some when he was in… uh, Africa?

Anyway, her other ear was bare, only a hole in it. _Who in their right mind would want to puncture their ears?_ And their stomach hole—Katherine had one of those, too. I mean, the whole putting the earring through the hole thing was also a huge innuendo. I focused my attention back on Katherine.

"Have you any idea," she hissed, "where Petri—the feline bastard—put my earring?" I wanted to ask, _why do you keep him?_ But I knew the answer. Katherine and Petri were best buddies, even if he stole her stuff. Seeing as I am a cat, and I couldn't talk—well, human-language or whatever—I just swished my tail and pranced away. Katherine cursed, and continued on her tirade.

Smirking to myself, I meowed loudly and rubbed up against Madigan's leg. "Hey, Presto. Bye, Presto." She sighed, opening the door for me to leave. I placed my paw on her foot—there were cats on her socks—then strolled out of the dorm. In the hallway, a few people stopped to pet me or be just plain annoying. People were used to cats roaming around here, especially me, Petri, and Arti, who was some weird tan cat who was more of a girl than me. And he was a boy.

I strolled out of the building, some kind person keeping the door open for me. I glanced back, acknowledging them, and continued on my merry way.

_I can do this. Yes… yes I can. I hope. Oh, fuck, I'm scared out of my mind._ I thought, trying to steady my breathing. Stupid Petri bailed out on me… I'd be doing this alone. The only comfort he gave me was saying that if he changed his mind again, he'd have to join alone.

Oh, for the love of god. Petri is a coward. If he didn't join with me, he never would. _You're on your own, Presto._ I told myself grudgingly. I crouched down, glancing into the junkyard. I couldn't see much. Only lonely junk piles. I assumed I wasn't at the main entrance…

I was just a dumb little kit who wanted to join the Jellicles for no good reason. I had reasons, of course—just not good ones. I'd been watching them for days—okay, maybe a few months. No matter! I'd been watching them for a while—their Ball, other festivities, hell, I've even seen Bustopher Jones in there… Yes, I knew Bustopher Jones. Not personally, of course, but I've seen him around. And everyone's heard about him.

Realizing I had completely spaced out, I focused my mind back on the junkyard. What would I say? "Hey, I'm a random cat who wants to join your tribe because you're awesome! Yay!" Yeah, _no_. Okay, Presto. Be professional…

I straightened myself out, fixed my chest fluff and bow—my fabulous, lovely bow—and started taking a step out of the shadows, into the light—into the entrance to the junkyard. And I got "cold feet." Argh! Presto, suck it up!

As if two hands of steel pushed me forward, I forced myself to step into the junkyard entrance. No turning back. I cleared my throat, and tried to say, "Excuse me." What came out was a barely audible whisper. I tried again. "Um, excuse me?" I said, then squeezed my eyes shut as if some ravenous beast would come out an attack me. I opened my eyes slowly and peered into the junkyard. It seemed no one heard me… No one was there. Making the ballsiest move I would ever make—ever—I stepped into the junkyard, no longer in the safety that was the outside world. How twisted is that?

I looked around nervously. No signs of any cats. I kept taking small, tentative steps, fearing in the back of my mind that the junkyard wouldn't be able to handle my weight and cave in, thus tearing into the time space continuum and creating a black hole that will kill us all… Or something.

I guess I hadn't realized how far I traveled into the junkyard, because before I knew it, a weight hit me and I was on the ground. Someone pounced on me. Scared out of my mind, I began yelling things like, "I'm sorry! I'll leave! Don't kill me! I'm innocent! I'm sorry!" I was wigging out, which was quite uncharacteristic of me. I had my eyes squeezed together so tight, painful tears of eye juice were squeezing out. I felt a release on my shoulder—whoever pounced me, had been holding it down, I gathered.

"Dude, shh. I'm not going to hurt you." Said the attacker—or protector, I was indeed the intruder in this situation. I literally froze and opened my eyes. The Pouncer was a black and white tom that was a lot friggin' bigger than me—and he was really hot. Uh, handsome. He got off of me and held out his paw. Like an idiot, I just sat up and gawked at him. "…What?" I said, unintentionally cocking my head to the side. "Are you a Jellicle?" I asked dumbly, mentally smacking myself.

"Why, yes. And what are you?"

_A mindless kitten who has been watching your tribe for months and really, really wants to join because you guys are awesome! _"A mindless kitten who has been watching your tribe for months and really, really wants to join because you guys are _awesome_!" Oh my god. I said that? Shit, shit, shit! I clamped my paws over my mouth in horror. I really needed to get out more. The tom started laughing, and I blushed. Hard.

"Oh, god." I sighed, standing up and brushing off my bum—I hadn't realized he still had his hand out. A gentleman, he was. "I'm sorry," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure why I was apologizing.

"Why?"

If only you could read my thoughts. I just said I didn't know… "Because I was being dumb, I guess." He chuckled, crossing his arms.

"You seem harmless enough… Do you have any ties to anything _shady_?"

"Well, yes. Light can't reach everywhere, y'know."

"…That's not what I meant."

"Oh, crap! I know what you mean, I just—Uh, no. I didn't really know there was shady stuff in… Catland, actually." I muttered, actually slapping myself. The cat—heeeyyyy, I still didn't know his name—just grinned.

"You want to join the Jellicles, right?"

_Yes, more than anything. I would kill to join you. _"Yeah, a lot."

"All right… I'll introduce you to Munkustrap." _And that is?_ Eh. I didn't want to question him, so I obediently followed him as he began to walk away. Since he obviously wasn't thinking of it—the tom seemed pretty spaced out—I took our momentary silence as a chance to introduce myself.

"My name is Presto… I live a few blocks away." I said, jogging up to him so I could walk beside him. Dude walked fast. He turned to me, an amused expression on his face.

"Presto, eh? I'm Alonzo, the Jellicle protector. Or, no. The _assistant_ of the Jellicle protector."

"Monkey… Munk… Munkustraps, right? No…"

"Munkustrap. Close."

"Oh. Well. That's cool… so you're on duty?"

"But of course." I didn't know what to say to that, so I just turned to face what was in front of us—then I realized we were entering a big clearing, which I assumed was the main clearing, as it was _teeming _with cats. Slowly, I saw paws pointing at me—and Alonzo, I guess—and giggling. _The bow._ I thought, inwardly smirking. I loved my bow, and there was nothing anyone could do about it…

"By the way, sorry about pouncing on y—" Alonzo started, but was cut off.

"Who's this, 'Lonzo?" said a voice—a deep, womanly voice. I turned to see whom it was—I hadn't realized that I was looking around at the cats—to see a tall, thin, and beautiful queen. I think Madigan's aunt had one like her… an Abyssinian?

"And hello to you, too, Cassandra"—mental note, the Abyssinian's named Cassandra—"… this kit's named Presto."

"Interesting…" said Cassandra, looking me over, like she saw through my entire flipping being. It was scary, because I actually thought it was true. "…Cassandra, as you might have guessed." She said, reaching towards me. I reached out my paw, thinking she was going to shake it, but instead she reached for my head and flicked the curl. I blushed, and surely looked like an apple. _She's kinda… intimidating. Eep._

"Hello!" I said, breathlessly, "I'm—"

"Alonzo? Do we have a newcomer?" Damn it! More cats! I thought I was going to be overwhelmed. But Presto is stronger than that! Just… wigged out. This voice, I noted, was a man. I turned to see whom it was, sort of noting that more cats seemed to have tuned in to our conversation. A normal reaction, I assumed, so I didn't think much of it. The voice came from another tall, handsome tom—a silver and black cat, who I assumed was a tabby or something.

"Oh god…" I whispered, realizing that was probably Munkustrap—from watching the Jellicles for a while, I noticed that he was… like, the protector, like Alonzo had said. I never knew his name though. It's hard to hear when you're watching from the roof of an apartment building… or was it a dorm house?

"Care to introduce yourself?" asked Munkustrap. I looked up—I was looking down? —and started sputtering random things out of embarrassment. Finally getting a hold on myself, I said, "Uh, I'm Presto, sir…"

"And she is, and I quote, a mindless kitten who has been watching our tribe for months and really, really wants to join because we are awesome." Alonzo said. I turned to him, wide-eyed. _OH, DEAR GOD_. Why, Alonzo, why? I could feel my face burning. He gave me a warm smile. I was sure I was going to melt into a puddle of blushing kitten. Oh _god_. Munkustrap, to my dismay, chuckled.

"I'm so sorry," I said, mentally punching myself, then kicking myself in the shin and laughing as I keeled over sobbing.

"Why?" asked Munkustrap. No. Stop. Asking. That.

"Because I'm a stalker," I said, ashamed. I could see the cats within earshot trying to contain their laughter. Well, some of them. Some were full on laughing.

"Oh, how rude of me…" said Munkustrap, "My name is Munkustrap." _I gathered._ "I'm the Jellicle protector, second-in-command…" _Gathered that, too. _"Let's have you talk to Old Deuteronomy, our leader."

Oh dear lord. Who the fuck—I need to clean my mouth with soap one of these days—is Old Deuteronomy? I knew he was the tribe leader, since Munkustrap said so… but, ugh! "Come with me." Munkustrap said warmly, signaling me to _come hither_, as Katherine would say. I nodded and jogged after him, bracing myself. Despite the fact that Alonzo—and I—made a complete fool of myself (great grammar there, Presto) I was calming down a little. Munkustrap seemed kind, and Alonzo seemed pretty cool (despite the fact that he was an ass—I mean, butt face)… Old Deuteronomy couldn't be so bad.

When we reached Old Deut's place—note to self, do _not_ call Deuteronomy "Deut" to his face, just don't—my face was perfectly cool again. I spaced out a little, so I barely heard Munkustrap when he said, "Father?" _Wait, what? Father? No wonder he's second-in-command… He's probably earned it. Ha, ha, Presto—you brown-noser. He can't even hear you!_ I thought, spacing out again. Apparently Deut told us to come inside, because Munkustrap gestured for me to enter. He held the entrance open for me, and with an imperceptible bow and a quiet "thanks," I entered, Munkustrap following after me.

Old Deut was a rag. A really big rag. Seriously. He smelled nice, though. "Take a seat, if you will," he said. I nodded, and followed his orders. Old Deut had a deep, baritone voice. What else would I have expected? He smiled a big, fatherly smile at me, and I attempted to return one without looking creepy. Munkustrap saluted at me—or maybe it wasn't a salute, it looked like one—nodded to Old Deut, and left. I wanted to cry, "No! Don't go!" but that would have been weird, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Hello, my name is Old Deuteronomy." _Got it. _"And yours…"

"Presto Parina Peterson. But most people call me Presto or Pres. Sir." He laughed, and I could swear I felt the room vibrate.

"No need to call me sir, dear," I nodded, a little weirded out that he called me "dear." A usual thing, I supposed.

"So you want to join the Jellicles?"

_No, I want to kill all of your men and take your booze and women. _"Yes, si—I mean, yes." He chuckled. "I'll just need to ask you a few questions," he said, and I pictured Madigan's mom straightening out a pile of paper that time when we were at the mansion. I remember, Madigan was in trouble, and I was there for "support." I didn't know why she had the papers, but when she was done, she launched into a series of questions… like Madigan was an employee or something.

"Do you know who Macavity is?"

"There's nothing wrong with my teeth." I said, deadpan. Deut laughed. I blushed, as I realized he said nothing about my teeth. "I-I mean, I don't know who that is!" I sputtered. He smiled at me, and continued the questioning.

Afterwards, I sighed what was probably the biggest sigh in the history of forever. I survived the questioning, and Deut said I could join. Not in so few words, but he said it. I resisted the urge to dance. I wiggled my shoulders and smiled to myself. "Presto," a voice called—Munkustrap.

"Yes?" I said, turning around. I noticed there were a few queenkits with him—a pure white one, a black, red and white one with big eyes, a dark brown and—in a few places—reddish kit, and lastly a crème colored kitten with stripes all on her sides, and freckles.

"These girls are Victoria,"—white cat—"Jemima,"—big eyes—"Electra,"—dark brown with some red—"and Etcetera." The cream colored one. I nodded, and grinned—finally, a free smile and not a forced nervous one. I was _in_. I was a _Jellicle_. The queenkits showered me with assorted greetings. Etcetera spoke up. "You're Presto, right?" her voice did not suit her face. It was almost womanly…

"Yeah,"

"Well, you know who we are! We'll be giving you a tour of the junkyard!" She said, smiling. My grin grew wider, if possible. I saw Etcetera look to Munkustrap for approval, and he nodded. "You girls have fun," he said, patting Jemima's shoulder. Then he left us.

"So, where to first?" asked Victoria.

"Waaaait." Etcetera whined. "Presto!" She said, turning to me.

"Hmm?"

"You can call me Etcy. Or Etti. Whatever's best." She said. A clicker seemed to go off in the other girls' heads, as they all began to tell me their nicknames.

"Some people call me Jemi or Jem,"

"Usually 'Lectra. Or El'."

"Vicki and Tori. Nice to meet you." Caught off guard a little, I bobbed my head up and down, mouth slightly agape as I thought of what to say.

"Uh, you can call me Pres, but I prefer Presto… my friend back home calls me Aggie sometimes."

"How do you get 'Aggie' out of Presto?" asked Electra.

"You don't."

"Oh." And we left it at that. "Anyway." Victoria said, after a small silence. "Let's show her the TSE1…" she finished. Etcetera grabbed my arm excitedly, squealing, and the kits began running towards the old thing, dragging me behind. I had the urge to complain—I'm lazy, so what?—but they probably didn't have a choice but to show me around. And the run wasn't actually that long. They were talking about something or someone, but I couldn't catch was who or it was. Panting with my hands on my knees, I looked up to see the kits surrounding what could only described as a Greek god. A feline one. I tried my hardest to keep my mouth shut. Who know what I'd spout out? _You're fucking sexy. _or _I want to have your children. _or worse, _Femboner. _I didn't really know what that was, but Katherine said it whenever she saw a cute guy.

"Who's this?" Adonis asked, lightly gesturing to me. I stood up straight, looking away, as I realized I was staring.

"This is Presto," answered Etcetera, her voice a bit high pitched now. "But you can call her Pres or… Aggie."

"Aggie?" confirmed Adonis. "How do you get that out of Presto?" _You don't._

"Long story short, it's a bad joke. But Presto is fine." I said, trying to smile a normal smile. As soon as we were out of his view, I'd melt. I was about to ask his name, when he said, "The Rum Tum Tugger, at your service," and reached out his hand. I thought I was going to _die_, but instead I grasped his hand and shook her gently, so as not to break him. He had a firm grasp, the sexy beast—uh, whoa, Presto. I could hear the other girls giggling, and I realized I probably had a goofy expression on. I withdrew, and he followed suite, leaning back into his cushion of queenkits.

"We should probably move on," said Electra, pouting. The other kittens grudgingly agreed, and one by one slid off the TSE1. The Rum Tum Tugger nodded, and said, "Nice to meet ya."

"You too," I said, thankful I didn't faint right then and there. He _breathed_ sexy, man.

"Oh, by the way, Presto," said Victoria, probably remembering that this was a tour, "this is the old TSE1, as you can see. Everyone loiters around it… Let's go check out Old Deuteronomy's tire." _He has his own tire? Lucky bastard. Er, I mean… never mind. These are my _thoughts _after all_. The kits agreed, and led me over to a really flippin' big old' tire, on top of which were two young toms, who seemed to be arguing.

"Pounce! Tumble!" Electra called—I noticed Jemima hadn't said anything yet. Except her nicknames.

"Guys!" one of them said—he had uneven eyebrows… "Which one of us does a cooler back flip?" _What the heck?_ I though. Apparently the others thought the same thing, because they had weird expressions on their faces, too. The taller one, the one with the funny eyebrows, did a flip off of the tire, landing with her arms up. Etcetera clapped. The smaller one did the same, but hit the other, knocking them both over. They launched into another argument.

"Anyway," Victoria said loudly, hushing them. "These two are Pouncival and Tumblebrutus. The taller one is Tumblebrutus. Most of us call them Pounce and Tumble."

"Makes sense." I said, earning a giggle from the kittens. They protested, but otherwise left it, and stood up. "Like she told you," began Tumblebrutus, "we're Tumblebrutus and Pouncival." I had the urge to ask, _so who's which? _But I resisted, seeing as I already knew.

Etcy hooked her arm around mine, and said, cheerfully, "Let's move on!" I nodded, then turned my attention back to Tumble and Pounce. "Nice to meet you guys. See you around." They replied with variations on goodbye, then the kittens led me somewhere.

"Where should we go next? Do we really have any other… you know, _landmarks_?" Asked Electra, as we stopped in the middle of the clearing.

"Misto's pipe? Or maybe he's Quaxo right now." Suggested Jemima, speaking up for the first time in a while. The other girls agreed, and I just stared dumbly. Misto? Quaxo? What the _Hell_ kind of name is Quaxo? And… are they the same person?

"Who are the—" I started; only to be cut off as the girls headed towards a pipe. Well, duh. Jemima said "Misto's pipe." So it had to be a pipe.

"Knock, knock!" Etcetera said, pounding on the pipe.

"Hey, hey!" came a voice. My guess was that it was Misto. Or Quaxo. Hey, they both ended in "o." I giggled to myself foolishly, earning a small concerned look from Jemima. For some odd reason, I had a feeling she looked at people like that a lot. And I giggled again. She smiled. I turned my attention back to the pipe, as we heard a loud crash, and a quiet hiss of, "Everlasting!"

In seconds, a white face appeared out of the end of the pipe. "Greetings." He said, rubbing his ear. Apparently he didn't notice me—I'm not _that_ plain, damnit—because he slowly looked up and said, "This is…" Oh, come _on_. This? Why must I be this?

"Presto." I said.

"Presto? Really?"

"Yes."

"Interesting." He gave me a look, which probably wasn't supposed to be offensive, but I gave him what I hoped was a creepy (or rather, creepi_er_) version of his expression. He hopped to the ground, and held out his paw. "Quaxo. Nice to meet you."

"So you're Quaxo now?" I asked, rather rudely. "Er, I mean, nice to meet you too." I said quickly, shaking his paw. I looked to the kittens, who were just watching.

"Well, yes." Answered Quaxo. I still thought that was a dumb name. Like I'd tell him.

"Then who's Misto?"

"_Mistoffelees._" He's corrected. I nodded. "Mistoffelees is Quito's alter-ego." Victoria teased. I didn't quite get it, but it was a tease—why else would Quaxo's/Mistoffelees's face have turned red? I looked at Mistoffelees/Quaxo, eyebrow cocked.

"I'm so confused." I sighed. Quaxo—well, that was whom he was at the time—ahemed, recomposing himself.

"You'll get it sooner or later." He said, and I scowled. Victoria elbowed me gently. "This is my brother, by the way."

"What? You look nothing alike."

"Naturally." She said, though I didn't get it. I didn't get a lot of stuff.

"…Random-bred?" I suggested. Katherine and Madigan often had debates about random-bred and purebred cats—or animals in general. Apparently I was a random-bred cat, and so was Stella, because our parents were probably different breeds. But Katherine's sister-in-law's Persian was purebred. Something like that. I assumed that, since Quaxoffelees was a black cat and Victoria was a white cat, that they were random-bred. Victoria looked at me, and I guessed she didn't understand what I meant. "Never mind." I said, glancing at Etcy, who was hopping from one paw to another. She looked excited about something, but then I realized she always did.

"We should get a move on. There are a lot of cats to introduce her to." Suggested Electra, resting a paw on my shoulder. I agreed, trying to get _in with it_. The Jellicles were rather fast-paced.

"See you, bro." Said Vicki, taking my hand. I saluted, he nodded towards us. The others said their goodbyes (that sounds tragic), and we continued on our merry way.

"Oh!" Jemima randomly exclaimed. We all turned to look at her. "Me and Electra offered to help Jelly clean… we have to go." She said, turning to Electra, who reacted rather dramatically, her eyes wide and mouth agape. "Sorry!" said Electra, and the two were off.

"And then there were three…" I said eerily. Victoria and Etcy giggled. "So… who will we meet next?" I asked. I was rather excited now.

"Why don't we meet Demeter? Bomba's probably with her."

The rest of the morning—early afternoon, really—was spent looking around the main clearing and a few places away from it, and introducing me to other cats and kits. I recited names in my head. It was a lot to process. _Plato. Bombalurina. Demeter. Munkustrap. Alonzo. Cassandra. Old Deut…eronomy. Electra. Exotica. Etcetera. Victoria. Jemima. The Rum Tum Tugger—not like you'll forget _his_ name. Quaxoffelees. Or rather, Mistoffelees and Quaxo. Admetus. Tumblebrutus. Pouncival._ _Coricopat and Tantomile—note. Your thoughts are not safe anymore, be cautious. _And on and on and on. I also noted the creepers and people who I wanted to avoid. Only three people fell into this list, though—Quaxoffelees (split personality?), Admetus, and Cassandra. Admetus was really the only creepy one. He just didn't sit well with me. The grin…

At this moment, Etcetera, Victoria and I were sitting on the TSE1, simply chatting. I was really happy then—it seemed I already had at least two good friends in the junkyard. Maybe five, if I spoke to Electra and Jemima more. I wondered what they were doing.

"So Presto, where do you live?" asked Etcetera.

"In a big brick apartment building or dorm house."

"The whole thing?"

"Sort of. I roam around all the time, but I live in an apartment with my owner, her friend, and her cat."

"Who's your owner? And her friend? And the cat?" asked Victoria.

"My owner is Madigan, but most people call her Maddie or Madds. I call her Madigan, though. Her friend is Katherine. Katherine's cat is a loser named Petri."

"What's he like?" Etcetera. I felt like I was on a game show. _Bzz! The answer is…_ "He's uptight, girly, serious, and a wimp." The two kits giggled, as did I. I pointed at the air, a regal expression on my face—or something like that. I looked prissy.

"Riddle me this," I began. The girl listened intently. Talking about them like this makes it seem like I was older than them, but something told me Victoria was older than me… Oh well, I'm mature like that. "What's the deal with Quaxoffelees—err, I mean, what's with Quaxo?"

"What do you mean?" inquired Etcetera, readjusting herself so she was lying on her stomach. I thought for a moment. At that point and time, I didn't exactly know what I wanted to know about—note to self, try not to use the same word so many times in one sentence—but I asked anyway.

"Who's Mistoffelees?"

"Quaxie's alter-ego. Like I said." Answered Victoria, whom I noticed was lying on her stomach too. Feeling a little uncomfortable, I laid down as well. "What's the difference?" I asked.

"When Quaxo's in magician-mode, his coat turns all black except for his face and chest. His chest is furry like yours. I mean, in that puffy sort of way. But anyway, his coat gets sparkly, too. And he talks less. Much less."

"He didn't seem that talkative to me."

"Exactly." She said, smirking. "When his coat isn't sparkling," she continued, "and he has three white paws, he's Quaxo. That's the way you saw him."

"So when's the transition? When do you start calling him Mistoffelees? Or on the flip, Quaxo?"

"Uh… that depends, I guess. He usually either shows up as one or the other." I nodded, leaving it at that.

"Are you and Plato going to mate?" I asked bluntly. Since we met him, I'd been wondering that, and I just blurted it out. Victoria blushed. Etcetera laughed. I blushed as well. "Er, I'm sorry! You don't have to say if you don't want to."

"Um, maybe… but…"

"But what?"

"Never mind." She said bashfully. I patted her head the way Madigan did when she forgot I was outside and it began to rain, but didn't hold me because I was wet. Victoria quickly recovered, and queried, "Do you have a thing with… Pretri?"

"Petri. And, no. He's like my dad. Or worse, my grandfather."

"Oh. Is he old?"

"No! He's just a bit older than me. I mean, he acts really old."

"But do you like him?" asked Etcetera, deciding to grill me too. I sighed, and rolled on to my back. "No." I answered flatly, closing my eyes. I could hear Etcetera sigh. We were all silent for a little, the sun soaking into our fur. This was very nice. I'd be spending a lot of time here.

"Hey." I said, breaking the silence. "Vicki, how do you keep your fur clean?" I flipped over again, so I was lying on my stomach. "Endless hours of preening." She sighed. "What about your chest fur?"

"Same thing as Quaxoffelees, I guess."

"Quaxoffelees?"

"Your brother."

"I don't know what he does." I nodded in agreement. Plus, I didn't know if they had an owner. Or maybe owner_s_. So I guess I lied—Madigan sent me to a groomer. Which I hated. "Every so often Madigan sends me to this grooming place, and they clean me and tend to my fur and such. It's the worst thing ever. Hey, do you guys have owners?"

"Nope." Answered Etcy. Vicki shook her head. "Oh. Are you allowed out of the junkyard?"

"Not until we're queens. We were both born here, so… bleh." Etcy said, and I giggled.

"Wait, you aren't queens yet?"

"Almost! Very soon to be." Etcetera pleaded, wiggling strangely. "Are you?"

"Just barely."

"Ohh. I thought I was older than you." Said Victoria.

"So did I."

"Huh."'

"I guess we're just dumb."

"Nice."

* * *

Anti-climactic! Yay! I wanted to end on a happy note, and I have nearly twenty word pages now. So, yay! Sorry for making Misto sound kinda snobby, lol.

This was a rather weird starter chapter, I know. See, I don't really know how you would go about joining the Jellicles, so I guessed. Which is why some of it is choppy.

This chapter would have been ten times longer if I wrote about Presto meeting _everyone_, so I didn't. If you want to see her meet someone I didn't include, ask, and I'll write a little drabble for ya.

The next chapter should be up ASAP. I'm in a super cool summer program though, and I'm gone for a long time in the day, and have trouble finding time to get on at night (we get homework, lots).


	2. Round two

**Notes: **I lied…

Just wanted to clarify—Presto uses nicknames for Misto based off of both "Quaxo" and "Mistoffelees," even if he's not in that form at the time. And sometimes she calls him Quaxoffelees.

This chapter serves as a bit of a helper for you guys in making a decision for me—whether or not Presto has _**romansu **_with our little conjuring cat. (M'yes, I am a huge SLASH fan, but not all the time.) Did I ever tell you guys that you were choosing what happened? 'Cos you are.

And yet again I think I made Quaxoffelees (oh dear, it's catching on) sound kinda snobby. My excuse… Presto is annoying. : D

Yet again, excuse my typos, blah blah blah.

**Njoi**

P.S. At some point in the last chapter, where it should say "Quaxo" it says "Quito." Blame WORD.

* * *

At this time, the sun was setting. Etcy, Victoria and I had been talking for hours. It was amazing how fast Etcy could speak, how _pushy_ Victoria could be (the girl's got quite a personality), and how much fun I had. Seriously. It was also pretty amazing that people only interrupted us once or twice (first time Plato, who just needed to talk to Vicki, then Admetus, who needed to find Plato) seeing as we kept rolling around and occasionally yelling (mostly Etcy, squealing).

I gathered quite a lot from our conversation. Despite our constant giggling and digressing, I got a grip on the basic workings of the tribe. Which was pretty helpful—without Etcy and Victoria, I'd probably still barely have a hold on what the Hell was going on in the tribe. Plus, I got to know some juicy gossip—apparently 'Lonzo's in a love triangle with Jemima and Cassandra. But Jemima is Munkustrap's daughter, and Alonzo is his successor. To me, it sounded like something out of a soap opera.

"It's getting dark, girls," came Jellylorum—Etcetera's mom; Vicki's parents were Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks—interrupting our chatter. "You should get going. Presto, dear, do you have a place to stay?"

"Oh, yeah. I have an owner."

"Do you need me to take you home?"

I smiled and shook my head. "No, that's quite all right. I don't live to far away." Jellylorum nodded and returned my smile.

"Be safe, dear." I nodded. "Come on, girls." She said to Etcy and Vicki, signaling them to follow.

"Bye, Presto!"

"See you tomorrow!"

"You bet." I said, grinning a toothy smile. I sat on the TSE1 for a little longer, watching them go into their respective dens. I wondered what it was like living in a cozy den like that. Humming, I slid off the TSE1, glancing at my surroundings before I left. I couldn't help but smile even wider to myself. This was my new home away from home, and I loved it.

I walked through the recesses of the junkyard, to where I had entered—I noted that I hadn't seen the main entrance yet—on the west side. I had trouble trying not to skip as I walked away. Alonzo's voice startled me.

"See you tomorrow, stalker." He called. I looked up, to see him walking—or rather, jumping and scaling—on the junk piles, smirking down at me. I stuck out my tongue at him, and hissed, "Toodles, Lonzie."

"Yeah, yeah." And he was off. I continued walking, till I reached the exit. Before I left, I turned around and took in the junkyard—the smell, the feel of the ground, the tall, building-like junk piles. Closing my eyes for a second, I let what I had just done—joining the Jellicles, getting a tour, talking with Etcy and Vicki—sink into my brain, then I turned around and left the junkyard for the night.

Despite that I lived in a safe part of the neighborhood, I bounded home as fast as I could, on all fours. I wanted to rub my success in Petri's face and tell him all about my day.

But of course, luck wasn't on my side. No one was outside, and you needed a key to get into the building. So I did what any cat would do—I meowed. _Loudly. _I meowed for nearly ten minutes before some kind soul opened the door—I thought it was Arti's owner. I rubbed against their leg, then waltzed into the building like I owned the place. Up three flights of stairs, down the hall, two door from the right—Madigan's room.

I stuck my paw under the door and shook it, meowing all the while. I knew how annoying I was being, but how else would I get inside? Seconds after I started, Katherine swung the door open and let me in with a muttered, "Fucking cat."

As soon as I got in, I bulleted around the house, looking for Petri. Wanting to be stealthy, I kept as quiet as possible. Sure, he'd be able to smell me, but Petri's sense of smell was a bit weak, and he was just plain easy to sneak up on. I spotted him lying on Katherine's bed, eyes closed—but I knew he wasn't asleep. Smirking, I prepared myself to pounce.

"Here's Presty!" I hollered, jumping on him.

"Oh dear g—" started Petri, but sputtering as my knees hit him in the stomach. Laughing, I got off of him. He curled up into a ball, cursing me.

"Oh my God, Presto…" he groaned. I smiled at him—and innocent, albeit extremely cocky smile. He sat up, still clutching his stomach, then gave me the death glare.

"So, I wanted to tell you—"

"'Hey, Petri, can I tell you something' wouldn't have worked?"

"—About my day." He continued glaring at me, but crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his knees. "Spill." He ordered, his voice bordering a whine.

"Okay, so after I gathered up the courage, I went into the junkyard. Then I got pounced by this guy named Alonzo. He's a protector of sorts. He took me into the main clearing, where he _intentionally _made a fool of me."

"Nice."

"Shut your face. Anyway, I met the Jellicle protector Munkustrap. He took me to talk to their leader, Old Deuteronomy. He questioned me and determined if I got to join—which I did."

"Good for you."

"Fuckface. Then, Munkustrap had me go on a tour of the junkyard with these kits named Electra, Etcetera, Victoria, and Jemima. First, they showed me this old car, a TSE1."

"Don't know what that is."

"Shh! So, on the TSE1 was the sexiest tom alive, The Rum Tum Tugger." Petri giggled at his name, and I karate chopped him on the head, giving him the death glare. He winced, rubbing the top of his head. Dimwit.

"Anyway. We met all of the cats—or at least most. I heard some toms talking about these two cats… Mungoteazer and Rumpeljerrie. Something like that."

"Those names are kinda ridiculous."

"Hey, I don't know if those are their actual names… apparently they're thieves."

"Whoo, scary."

"Shut up. At some point, Electra and Jemima had to leave us. Forgot that. So Etcy and Vicki—"

"Who?"

I rolled my eyes at him. If he was _listening… _"Etcetera and Victoria. We went and lazed around on the TSE1, and they told me all about the tribe. Or at least what they knew."

"Uh huh." I narrowed my eyes at him. He was good at pretending he cared.

"Whatever…" I sighed melodramatically, getting up. "I'm going to bed. Good night."

"I hope you get bit by bed bugs."

"Right back atcha." I said, strolling away from him. I'd sleep in my usual spot, on a pillow in the window. That poor pillow was so covered in cat hair that it would never, ever be the same. High time we got a new one…

I hopped on to the arm of the sofa, then on to the windowsill. I stretched—a really long friggin' stretch—then plopped down on my pillow and waited for sleep to come.

I don't think I've ever slept that nicely in my life. I awoke the next morning, fully rested and ready for anything that came my way. Immediately, I sat up and looked for Petri. I would, of course, be going to the junkyard again.

But maybe not so fast. I could hear Katherine and Madigan talking in the kitchen, the strong scent of coffee filling the air. (I hate the smell of coffee.) Katherine sounded exasperated, Madigan desperate.

"I just don't know what to do. I can't hook a good guy." Came Katherine's voice. Intrigued—though I'd never admit it—I hopped from my lovely bed and walked into the kitchen. Katherine was leaning on a counter—that girl needed to wear more clothes—while Madigan was sitting on the table. Madigan had a cup of coffee, whereas Katherine had a clear plastic cup filled with some fluffy girly drink.

"Maybe you should just stay away from guys for a while. Focus on school."

"That's pretty tough when guys are crawling all over you."

"You're so conceited."

"The best people are." Katherine cooed. My interest in their conversation faded, so I walked up on Madigan and pawed her foot. She looked down at me and sighed.

"Not even going to eat something?" she asked, as I hopped up on to the table. I just looked at her, head slightly cocked.

"You wanna go out, right?" she inquired, though it really seemed she was directing the question to the sink. She was staring at it rather intently. I simply rubbed my head on her leg. In response, she hopped from the table, said something to Katherine, and followed me to the door. She undid the chain lock thing, and let me out. As she closed the door, I heard her say something, but I couldn't tell what it was.

I pranced through the hallways, receiving the same attention I always got. Random greetings, like I'd reply, pats on the head, comments on my chest fur, whatever. I just kept going, unless they made me stop. Or if someone said something nice, I'd look at him or her.

Again, a kind bystander let me out; holding the door as he said, "See ya later." Being the polite little kitten that I am, I acknowledged him by rubbing his leg. And then I was off. I'd waited long enough.

Today was not a very nice day. The sky was gray, and just waiting to drown us all. I imagined it forming a face and laughing at us as it poured… how unrealistic. I wondered if I should go back home, but thought against it and kept going.

Walking a bit faster than usual, I got to the junkyard in less time than the previous day. I waltzed in with no caution whatsoever—I was a Jellicle now, I didn't need to worry about being pounced.

Soon enough, I reached the main clearing, which didn't have as many cats in it as yesterday—the impending rain. A few cats were outside, but I didn't go up to them. Instead, I heard someone say "One… two… three… Presto!"

"What?" I said, walking to the voice. I rounded a corner to see Mistoffelees—I guess I'll just call him that all the time?—doing… something. (Not _that_ kind of something, you silly duck.)

"W-what?" He responded, obviously startled. "Bast!" he yelled, as something exploded.

"OH MY GOD!" I shrieked, covering my eyes. Of course, I peeked between my fingers. All I could see was smoke—sparkly pink smoke. When the smoke subsided, I looked down at Mistoffelees—he was sitting on the ground, something in front of him left a big, pink explosion mark (or something of the sort). His face was covered in pink dust and sparkles, and so was most of his front side. I looked down at myself. I was pink too.

"…What just happened?" I ask, examining my arms and legs. Mistoffelees glared at me, as if I should know the answer. I knew the answer for the most part; something exploded. But I didn't know what. Or why.

"You messed up my experiment, and this happened."

"What the hell did I do?"

"You made me lose my concentration."

"Well, if you love me that much…" I trailed off, making a stupid apologetic face.

"_No._" he said, standing up and brushing himself off. I did the same—wouldn't be much fun to walk around trailing pink dust all day, would it? At that second, I finally realized something—my name! Snap. _My _name is his magic word. I wanted to do a dance—I felt like I accomplished something. But then I realized he was a magician, and I met him the day prior to… this. Damn.

"…What were you experimenting?" I asked innocently, then shook my head so as to get the dust off.

"What do you mean?"

"What… y'know, _magics_ were you testing?"

"Magics?"

"Pity me." I said, earning a small chuckle. I gave him a look—a mix of amusement, curiosity, and cockiness. He stopped, and sighed.

"I was trying to make a doll disappear."

"Trauma?" I offered. God, I'm twisted.

"Yeah, no." He said, still brushing off. The white on his chest was showing through, and his face was mostly clean. "I was practicing… like I said." _In different words, _I wanted to add, but that was just dumb.

"Why did it explode?"

"Didn't I tell you? You made me lose my focus."

"Well, sorry."

"Not your fault. Mostly." Mistoffelees said, his words slightly cut off by a sneeze. Pink dust came out of his nose, and I couldn't help but laugh. When my laughter faded down, Mistoffelees was glaring at me again, his nose twitching—he was obviously trying to resist the urge to snort the rest of the dust out of his nose. Guess I rubbed him the wrong way. Like steel wool…

When I completely stopped laughing, it hit me—Quaxoffelees was a lot like a certain annoying tom I knew. At this realization, a strange, open-mouth smirk tugged at my lips. He scoffed, eyebrow cocked.

"What?"

"You're just like Petri." I said, resisting a giggle.

"Who?"

"My grandpa."

"Really?" He asked, his irritation turning into slight curiosity.

"No, he's my roommate." I said, patting dust off of my face. This was a little difficult. Crap.

"Was that sarcasm?" he asked, sounding annoyed again. Everlasting, if he was usually this irritable, I'd be having a lot of fun with him. (Ew, not like that.) I sighed melodramatically, slouching. He gave me a look.

"Noo. I'm not _that_ bad. Seriously."

"Actually, you are."

"Shh." I said, pressing my finger to my lips—but then regretting it, as I sniffed the dust on my paw, and entered a sneezing fit. Quaxoffelees began laughing at my misfortune—so what if I have funny sneezes? I continued sneezing, dust flying everywhere. I'd be blaming this on him, if anyone asked. When my sneezing subsided, I thought Mistletoes was on the verge of tears. It was my turn to glare at him. As payback, I reached for his shoulders and began patting him, causing all of the pink dust to lift into the air. He began sneezing again—and my plan backfired. I began sneezing too. There we were, two cats sneezing pink dust and sparkles. I presumed the sparkles were what made us sneeze so much.

"What the"—sneeze—"were you trying to"—sneeze—"accomplish?" Mistoffelees demanded, his voice stuffy.

"What are you two doing…?" came a voice—Victoria's voice. I looked at her, eyes wide—and I sneezed again. Mist just kept sneezing. I noted that Electra, Etcetera, and Jemima were with her.

"I heard dear Quaxo say my name, so like any cat I approached him." I explained, in a voice dripping with sweetness—and sarcasm. "But he flipped out and made a doll explode—and this happened. We're covered in dust and sparkles, just because I was being polite." It probably would have been convincing if I hadn't started laughing.

Quaxoffelees finally stopped sneezing, and said, "Yeah, right. Presto heard me doing an experiment, and made me lose focus."

"I apologized!"

"I was trying to make a doll disappear, but instead it exploded."

"Yeah, and sparkles make you sneeze." I contributed. The girls were collectively trying to keep from laughing, but Etcetera broke the dam. She began howling with Etcy-laughter, and the other girls followed. I finally realized that the sparkles weren't coming off like the dust. When the girls calmed down, Electra asked, "So you finally realized what the deal with your name was?"

"Yup. And it will forever haunt me." The girls laughed, Misto just scoffed.

"What are you going to do?" asked Etcy, wiping a tear from her eye. "You can't go home like that, Presto…"

"I don't know about me, but you could beat Mistoffelees here with a broom."

"It Quaxo right now, thanks—wait, hey!"

"You're welcome…" I said, trailing off as my eyes lead me to Victoria. She looked alarmed, as I had an extremely sneaky look on my face. White fur. Pink dust. Sparkles. "Oh Vicki!" I sang, slowly walking towards her with my arms outstretched. She hid behind Jemima.

"Don't hide. I just want a hug…" I said menacingly. She began to run away, causing the other queenkits—and tom—to laugh. We, Victoria and I, soon found ourselves laughing as well.

After nearly ten minutes of running, I had successfully gotten pink dust and sparkles in Victoria's head fur, all over her right arm, and her left leg. I noted that Etcy was nearly keeled over from laughter. Cute kid.

"This will take forever to get out!" she whined, though a smile played at her features.

"You think you've got it bad?" I asked, gesturing to my person.

"Hey, I've got white fur."

"So do I."

"Yeah, but you've got other colors." I stuck my tongue out and crossed my arms.

"Seriously, though—what are you going to do?" spoke Jemima, eyes wide… like usual. Lucky girl—those eyes of hers were gorgeous. Mistoffelees, Victoria and I exchanged looks.

"We can hope for rain, or go to mom and hope she doesn't chew us out. She's got running water." Suggested Mistoffelees.

"I'm liking the first option." I piped up.

"No way—it'll take forever for us to dry off."

"Either way it will." Said Mistoffelees, followed by a sigh.

"Well, I got us in quite the situation, now didn't I?"

"Yes you did," sighed Victoria, patting me on the head gently with her eyes closed. Mistoffelees sighed again, his shoulders dropping.

"To Jenny you go!" cheered Etcetera, quite pleased with our misfortune.

"…Now, what happened here?" asked Jenny, arms crossed. She had the three of us lined up on the ground, sitting on our knees with our hands in fists on our knees. We all had our heads down, praying for the best (at least I was.)

"It was… a bad joke." Suggested Victoria. I glanced at her, and saw that she was wincing, bracing for impact. Not like Jenny would do anything… I think. I felt bad. Though I wasn't so sure yet, it seemed I got us into trouble on my second day as a Jellicle.

"Sort of…" I agreed. "I caught Misto doing a trick, and I startled him. Something exploded and we got all covered with dust. Then Victoria, Electra, Etcetera and Jemima came along, and I—"

"I decided to play a prank on my sister," said Misto. I wanted to attack him with love and screech, _if we're in trouble I'll be forever indebted to you! _But that would have been weird. No one spoke for a while, till Jenny began to chuckle.

"You're not in trouble, kids… I understand." We all looked up, me a little later than the other two—I was checking to see if it was okay. "I'll get a tub ready," she said, and started to walk away.

"Wait—we're sharing a tub?" asked Mistoffelees, obviously mortified. I glanced at Victoria, who snorted, with a smirk on her face. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Technically, we're already nude… so, there." Victoria said, shrugging. I made a strange, throaty noise of agreement. Misty was ready to object, but Jenny was long gone.

"Think of it as… brother-sister bonding," Victoria said, slinging her arm over Mistoffelees's shoulder. I couldn't help but grin goofily. My ears twitched as the sound of water hitting something—I guessed it was the tub—resounded throughout the den. I glanced over at Misto and Victoria.

"This is going to be awkward," I said dumbly.

"Like I said, we're already nude…" Victoria trailed off, looking to the side. I chuckled-a nervous, uncomfortable chuckle. Yeah, sure, we were already "nude"—we didn't wear shirts and pants and stuff. We're cats, not humans. It was still uncomfortable. Oh well! I am Presto! I am strong! I am shameless! Which really isn't a good thing but I don't care!

Soon after, Jenny entered the room, carrying a big gray tub, with water sloshing around in it. It would be a tight squeeze. Damn exploding doll.

"Here you go," she cooed, gesturing to the tub. I sighed. She nodded to us, and left. I glanced at Mistoffelees and Victoria, then crawled over to the tub—I didn't feel like standing. At the sight of the water, I made a face, and poked the surface. I groaned. This wouldn't be fun. The water was cold.

"Ladies first…" Misto said, scratching behind his ear."

"Oh. Then you can go first, Quaxoffelees." I said, smirking. I loved gender jokes.

"Ha, ha, ha." He said, rolling his eyes. Victoria giggled, and made her way over to the tub. She stared at it like I had. We were treating it like some alien object. I stood up, then reached my leg over the side. I let my foot paw tap the surface. I slowly put the rest of my foot in it. That water was _really_ cold. I put my other foot in, and I resisted the urge to shiver.

"The water is freezing." I said, slowly sitting down. I stifled a yelp as I slipped, causing myself to land in the water abruptly, splashing Victoria and soaking myself. Victoria shook her fur, cold water flying from it. I wanted to say something, but all I could think about was _Damn. This is cold._

Victoria and Mistoffelees erupted with laughter. I guessed I looked pretty dumb, shivering, chest fur all wet and droopy. Not to mention how spiky my fur probably looked. Everyone's fur did that—I was no exception. In fact, I think I was an exceptional case. I always looked especially ridiculous when I got wet. I could tell my bow was sagging, because it didn't brush against my face. And guaranteed there was water in my bell. Oh, and of course the pink dust. I could feel it getting all goopy in my fur. I couldn't see any sparkles, though. I glared at the two, who were still laughing.

"Why don't you guys get in here? Water's fine." I said, my voice dripping with malice and breaking a little, since the water was _so goddamned cold_. They shook their heads cheekily. I grinned wickedly, and splashed the two.

"Booyah!" I said, fist pumping.

"Oh, no you didn't." said Victoria. She had gotten the brunt of my attack, since she was closest to the tub. She was getting ready to splash me when Jenny entered to the room. She sighed at the sight.

"Don't goof around. Please." She ordered, making a _tsk, tsk_ gesture. And she was gone again. I wondered what she was doing. Sighing, and looking at the water disdainfully, Victoria readied herself to enter the tub. I scooted over to the side, giving her room to enter.

"Oh, Bast. This is freezing!" she squealed as she sat down in the water. We both turned to Mistoffelees, who was simply sitting there, eyebrow cocked.

"Join the fun." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Be a man," Victoria hissed, splashing the water a little. I felt like the tub was shaking, since we were both shivering. Though the water was getting better. It was warming up, even though pink dust goo was floating in it and sticking to our fur. We'd need to actually rinse off after this. Torture. Sighing, Mistoffelees made his way to the tub. Without hesitation, he plopped down in the water. It was a tight squeeze. A really tight squeeze. Water overflowed from the tub, our bodies pushing it out.

"What do we do now?" I asked. My left arm was dangling over the edge of the tub, my right was squished, resting on my knees, and my legs were spread apart, dangling over the side of the tub. Not comfortable.

"Wait?" suggested Victoria quizzically. She was in nearly the same position, but her arms were both squeezed between herself, Mistoffelees and me respectively. I couldn't tell where her arms were, but I thought I could feel her arm against mine.

"This will be hard to get out of," groaned Mistoffelees, his ears pressed against his skull. I couldn't really see him past Victoria—who began squirming, in an attempt to free herself. Instead, the tub began tipping.

"Uh…" I started, though I wasn't sure what to say. Victoria continued trying to free her arms. Mistoffelees and I had leaned forward (as best we could) trying to see just what she was going to accomplish. The tub tipped more. Just as Victoria freed her arms, making a "phew!" sound, the tub fell backwards.

"Oh, shit—" I started. In a flash, we were all on our backs, stuck in a tub, freezing water washing over us. We were simply silent; Victoria, Mistoffelees, and I. Vicki began to giggle. Followed by me. Then Mistoffelees. We were full on laughing, despite our unfortunate situation. I could feel the damp dust (dust goo, like I called it) sticking to m fur, to the skin underneath.

"This is so gross!" Victoria exclaimed.

"Talk about it," agreed Mistoffelees, sighing.

"… I already asked this, but seriously: what are we gonna do now?"

* * *

Lighthearted cliffhanger! Don't worry; since I'm really busy, I'm not going to make superOMGwutwillhappennext cliffhangers.

Ha, ha, this was fun to write… Remember; tell me what you think about "Prestoffelees."

Review, and I'll let you take a bath with Misto. Or anyone else.


	3. Round Three

**Notes: **Okay, I gave up on only having notes at the end of chapters. I have too much to say.

Seeing as no one has actually said "NO, NO PRESTOFFELEES" then I'm going to do it. It'll take time, durr, but it'll happen eventually.

Oh, I made a love triangle. Presto is _not _in it.

This chapter sucks and is not corrected. Just a warning. I mean, seriously. I'm disappointed in myself. I only have time to write at night and on the weekends (If I'm not doing anything)… my creative juice is low as hell.

Misto, Vicki, and Presto are stuck in a tub! OMG!

P.S. I went pretty light with Teazer and Jerrie's accents. So… there. And some of Presto's grammar in here is… bad, but you don't care, right? And don't over think the sponges, or how I say the cats have paws and fingers. Just don't think so much about it.

**P.S.S./P.P.S. (I don't know which one) I LOVE MY REVIEWERS. All two and a half of you. :D**

* * *

We sat in silence for a while. It was cold, though the water had warmed slightly. It felt like there was a small breeze where Vicki, Quaxoffelees, and me were, trapped in a tub, on our backs. The dust goo had settled, and we were all sticky and damp, as the water had begun to dry.

"Should we call for Jenny?" I ask.

"I think I saw her leave," said Misty, from the other side of Victoria.

"This is humiliating." Came Vicki, who had her arms stuck above her head. The price of freedom, babe.

"I can't feel my butt." I whined, wiggling. The tub rolled, but nothing happened. Damn. We were stuck _good_.

"Well, should we call someone?" suggested Quaxie. (Ha, ha. _Quaxie_.)

"No!" Victoria objected. "What if it was Plato? Or Mun—" she stopped, catching herself. I cocked a brow. Awkward. "I don't want people to see me like this—"

"_Who_, Victoria?" Mistoffelees interrupted, his voice venomous and suspicious. I really didn't have any idea what was going on. I knew Victoria was with Plato, but who was the other guy she was talking about? Mungoteazer (note to self: find out his real name)? Munkustrap? Or maybe some other tom I didn't know about.

"No one," Victoria said quietly. She knew she was trapped—literally, too.

"_Victoria_."

"What happened to calling me Vicki?"

"_Who is it_?"

"_Soooooo_!" I shouted. I didn't want to be stuck in a tub with arguing siblings. I wondered why Quaxoffelees sounded so angry. I really wanted to ask, but decided not to. Bad timing. I could still feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

"We need to focus on getting out…" I added nervously.

"Yeah, sorry." Agreed Quaxoffelees. At this point, all I wanted to do was get out of the tub and… well, figure out what's up. I guess my hours-long talk with Etcetera and Vicki didn't tell me as much as I had hoped. I wondered just how much juicy gossip loomed in the lives of the Jellicles… Jeez, I'm like a parasite.

"So because of Vicki's pride, we can't—_shouldn't _call for anyone… Should we just wait till Jenny gets back?" I suggested, scratching behind my ear with my free hand.

"I guess, sure." Said Victoria before clearing her throat. We just gave up, I assumed. Not that I really minded—this was kind of fun. Despite the current conditions, sure, it was a bit undesirable a situation, but I'd get to talk to them. Or so I thought—we were silent for a while, and the air was still tense.

"So… Presto." Victoria began, breaking the silence. I wanted to hug her—I was ready to scream. "Got your eye on any of the toms here?"

"What? No. This is my second day, remember."

"And yet it feels like you been stuck to us forever," interjected Quaxoffelees. I snorted, Victoria giggled.

"I'll pretend that's a good thing." I said, smirking.

"Presto, you've got to have your eye on _someone_."

"Fine, Tugger." I thought I could hear Quax chuckle.

"He doesn't count." Said Victoria, as if she'd make a _tsk tsk_ motion. I knew that he didn't count—duuuhhhh. He was like a superstar and I was a fan girl—just like Vicki, Jemi, Electra, and Etcy.

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"Being in the middle of your girl talk is awkward." Said Quaxoffelees. I would have glared at him if I could see his face. Cheeky butt face. (Is it just me or was that rather oxymoronic?)

"Technically," began Victoria matter-of-factly, "you're to the left of our girl talk." I giggled. She got him. He made a strange noise—like a snort.

"Hey, Mistyface." I said.

"Mistyface?"

"Yes. Explain the whole Quaxo-Misto deal." I ordered. I would have crossed my arms if my left arm was free, but I think my tone did the job.

"I thought I already told you!" Victoria protested.

"You did, but I still don't get it."

"Because you're stupid," said Victoria jokingly, a smirk on her face. At least, it looked like a smirk, since I could only see the side of her face. It felt like the tub got smaller. I imagined it shrinking until it crushed us and we died. But that was a grim thought, and it was pretty damn gross, so I mentally shook it off. Ew.

"Ha. Anyway, Quaxoffelees—"

"When did I consent to all of these nicknames?"

"Spill."

"Why are you so interested?" Oh, damn. That shut me up. I didn't exactly know why—I assumed I just didn't like being confused. Who does? That was a dumb excuse. I tried various excuses in my head, hoping I wasn't taking to long.

"I need to know what to call you."

"You already know that. When my fur is all black except for my face and chest, I'm Mistoffelees." I bit my lip. He got me again. I wanted to shrug, show him I didn't care anymore—though I guess I did—but I only had one shoulder I could use, and he couldn't see me.

"Never mind." I said, hoping it would suffice. Wait, why did I care? Whatever. New subject.

"Something is, like, stabbing the back of my thigh," said Victoria, attempting to reach her legs. She was _so _close, but she'd need to lean forward to get to her leg, but we were too stuck.

"Okay, maybe we should call for help." Quaxo (I guessed that, since I knew for sure now, I should call him by the right name at the right time… Just kidding, that's not gonna happen) tried. I could hear slight urgency in his voice. Stuck in a tub with two chicks? Even if one of them was your sister, it still had to be embarrassing. In fact, being stuck in a tub alone would be, too. If not more so. Victoria made a frustrated sound. She obviously still didn't like the idea.

"Fine," she huffed. I was sure she would have crossed her arms if she had room. My eyes widened as I realized something.

"Were we _supposed_ to get in the tub all at once?" I asked, trying to crane my neck so as to see the others' faces. I could see some of Quax's face now, and most of Victoria's. They had surprised faces, like they just had an epiphany. I nodded, but then my neck got tired and I had to relax again.

"Well, that sucks. We've been in here forever." Said Victoria.

"…Let's not dwell." Said Mistoffelees—erm, Quaxo—albeit grudgingly. I nodded, though I knew he couldn't see. Victoria nodded as well.

"What should we yell?" I asked.

"'Help', I guess." Said Victoria.

"…'Kay then." I said. We were silent for a moment, hesitant. "On the count of three…?" I said weakly. Victoria and Mistletoes made noises of agreement.

"One, two… three?" nothing happened. Simply nervous noises, and a few uncomfortable giggles.

"Help! Help!" Victoria shouted. I wanted to give her a big hug for having the balls to do that, even if she was hesitant before. Misty and I joined her. Variants on "Help us" filled the room. I worried that someone would think we were seriously in trouble (we kind of were), so I yelled, "We're trapped in a tub!"

"_WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?_" Victoria demanded. I was sure she would have hit me. I knew she wouldn't say it, but she probably didn't want Plato or the other guy ("Mun-") to see us like this. Or even know that it happened.

"I just want to get out of here!" I cried, though I wasn't really crying—I'm too cool for that. Victoria agreed, flustered. Mistoffelees simply scoffed, and I really, _really _wanted to hit him.

Soon enough, someone heard our pleas. As we heard steps coming closer, I could just feel the air getting thick with excitement. "You a'right in there?" a voice called. I didn't quite recognize it, but Victoria did. I could just feel her tense up. I could hear footsteps—light, stealthy footsteps. The speaker came into view. I didn't recognize them. It was a tom, with orange, white, and black markings. His face screwed up, and he burst out laughing—but not before flashing a look of pity at us. (Actually, I don't think it was directed at all of us—just Victoria…) I heard something hit the floor with a clunk and a shatter. "Teazer! You gotta see 'is!" he called, trying to calm down. He had an accent. A funny one.

"Wha' is it, Jerr?" a female called. I could barely hear her footsteps. She soon appeared next to the tom, bending over so she could see us. She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. She looked like she was going to cry. But instead, she began laughing, and her partner joined in the fun. The queen, _Teazer_, looked a lot like the tom. However, she had fewer markings, which were lighter. And she had a pearl necklace.

"Um, who are they?" I whispered to Victoria.

"Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer," she answered, her tone shaky. I wanted to shout, _that must be the mystery tom!_ But I still didn't know what exactly was going on. And I certainly didn't want to make things awkward, or to assume.

"Can you guys help us?" Mistoffelees asked over their laughter. They calmed down, and I noticed that I couldn't see them as well anymore. They came back into view—I thought they'd begin laughing again at any moment.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Mistletoes," said Mungojerrie. So I wasn't the only one who called him that! "Teaze, you 'ake the other side," he said, and Rumpelteazer nodded enthusiastically. They were pretty small cats…

In moments, they were slowly righting us. Not without making fun of us, of course—Rumpelteazer made a point of stating how heavy we were. I felt really dumb. Soon enough, we were right side up—but still stuck.

"Since yer 'ands are free, Vic, we'll get ya out. Then there should be room for Misto and… you ta get out," said Mungojerrie, directing "you" at me. I hadn't met them yet… Damn. I glanced over to Victoria, whose face was flushed. I was quite curious now. _Curiosity killed the cat, Presto._

Soon, Mungojerrie was standing over us, pulling Victoria by the arms. She wiggled, and I truly though we'd get stuck worse. But, with what I swore was a _pop_, she was out. Victoria stepped out of the tub, Mungojerrie keeping his hand to hers like a gentleman. I could see Mistoffelees now, and his face was just as curious as I assumed mine was. Or maybe his expression was suspicious…?

Mistoffelees and I stepped out of the tub. If my suspicions were correct, Victoria was in a relationship with Plato. But she also liked Mungojerrie. And that was really all I could come up with. I thought of asking her about it, but thought against it. _At least for now_.

"Thanks," I said. "My name is Presto." I finished, holding out my paw. Rumpelteazer took my paw and grinned at me.

"Nice ta meet ya. Name's Rumpelteazah. Y'can call me Teazah or Teaze. Or some'in like that." _Yup, I got it. _I nodded, and grinned back. She breathed _awesome_. And she was tiny. I could tell that Rumpelteazer was small, but upon standing, I was at least a head taller than her. Mungojerrie stepped forward and held out his paw.

"Charmed. The name's Mungojerrie." _Got it. _I fought off the urge to giggle at their accents. They were so… cute! I beamed at him, and shook his hand. Remembering my Vicki-Jerrie-Plato love triangle, I quickly withdrew, hoping it didn't seem awkward.

"So... um…" Victoria started, scratching behind her ear, "I guess we'll be going—wait. We're still… dirty." She sighed, slouching. I groaned, seeing the now crusty dust mush on my fur. I picked at it with a claw. It was gross and cracked. Mistoffelees and Victoria didn't look much better. In fact, Victoria looked worse than before. We were damp, covered in pink crust, with our fur all spiky. If we dared to shake the water out, we'd turn into fluff balls. Or at least I would.

"What 'appened?" asked Teazer, getting a good look at us. I could see the duo trying not to laugh again. I glanced at Jerrie's feet, where a brown bag was. _That must have been that noise I heard_, I thought, _he must have dropped it when he was laughing._

Mistoffelees answered for us. "I was trying to make a doll disappear, but Presto accidentally got involved and the doll blew up. We got all covered in pink dust and sparkles. Then Victoria and her friends showed up." I could see the duo nodding, like they were agreeing with him on something. "Presto started chasing Vicki. We were all covered in dust and sparkles, and went to Jenny to get cleaned up. But then we got stuck in a tub. Victoria made us fall over."

"_Hey!_"

"… And here we are." He finished, shrugging. I nodded—his story was accurate enough. I was pretty happy that he didn't include the sneezing part. That was… a little embarrassing.

"Nice, now y'all... crusty," Teaze giggled, tapping a rather large spot of crust on my arm. I made a funny noise of frustration.

"I guess we should go rinse off…" said Victoria. I knew that none of us wanted to. Jenny may have had running water, but she didn't decide the temperature. Who knew, it might have been scalding when we went to rinse off. Or it could have been freezing again… I shivered at the memory, but agreed with Vicki.

"Yeah… where's the spout thing?" I asked, looking to Jerrie and Teazer, then to Misto and Vicki. Vicki pointed to a little whole thing, through which I imagined was the spout. "…Shall we go?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure." Said Mistoffelees, shrugging.

"Well, we'll be off," said Mungojerrie, draping his arm around his sister. Well, actually I didn't know if they were siblings or _what _at that point. Going with my little "hypothesis," I glanced at Victoria. She looked… disdainful. (So maybe they _weren't _siblings?) At that moment, I realized just how pretty Victoria was. Sure, the white fur was a big plus, but _Bast_, she was still really pretty. And, I had to admit; her brother wasn't all that bad either. Not bad at all…

Wuh-huh-ho, Presto.

Victoria saw me looking, and for a second she looked startled, but quickly replaced it with a smile. I cocked a brow and smirked at her, and looked away before I could see her reaction. "Toodle pip," Rumpelteazer said, earning giggles from Jerrie, Misto, and Vicki. I didn't get the joke, but I chuckled anyway. The duo saluted to us, picked up their bags, and left. I could hear Rumpelteazer scolding Mungojerrie about something, but then they were out of earshot. It probably had something to do with the bags…

"What were those bags for?" I asked Misto and Vicki, loosely crossing my arms. I quickly decided against it, though. I didn't want to seem snobby.

"They're thieves," answered Mistoffelees, as if he was just talking about the weather.

"Thieves…?"

"_Petty _thieves, as Munkustrap would say," he elaborated. I nodded slowly. Was that how Rumpelteazer got those pearls? _Nice_. I supposed there really were _shady_ things in Catland. But, being so noble, I'd never get involved in stuff like that… not that it wouldn't be totally glamorous.

"But," Victoria started, leaning in as if she were telling a secret, "people think they've got ties to…" she stopped, and glanced around. "_Macavity._" She said the name with such disgust, and said it so quietly, that it surprised me. I remembered that Old Deut had asked me about… _it. _I didn't know if Macavity was a man or a woman or not. Macavity was a pretty name… so maybe it was a woman? Men's names can be pretty. But that's a _really _pretty name…

"Who's that?" I asked, totally oblivious. I assumed Macavity was a bad cat, I just didn't know what for—or the extent. Vicki and Mistoffelees looked at me like I was crazy.

"He's a really bad guy," said Mistoffelees. Okay, Macavity was a tom. I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Maybe he was hot. "He's, like, the crime lord of cats." He continued.

"_Macavity's a mystery cat, he's called the Hidden Paw…_" Victoria sang. I had to admit she kinda… _sucked_, but at least she was pretty. And I did notice she had a certain style to the way she moved. Graceful. Maybe she was a dancer? Not to mention she was nice. Jeez, I'm so… material? No, that's not the word.

"The _Hidden Paw_?" I said quizzically, stifling a laugh. "That's a little ridiculous."

"You have no idea what he can do." Said Mistoffelees warningly.

"Well, we kind of don't, either…" Victoria said quietly.

"Demeter does." He said, elbowing her gently.

"Demeter? What does she know?" I asked, tempted to rephrase. That sounded really bitchy. It seemed they didn't notice, though, as the conversation continued like normal.

"He did something… really bad to her. I mean, seriously. That's why she's so… so…" Victoria trailed off, pity—for Demeter—in her eyes.

"…Skittish?" Mistoffelees tried. Victoria nodded.

"…Oh." I said. I didn't want to pry further. This was depressing. We were silent, the topic of _Macavity _hanging in the air. It felt a little hard to breathe. But I still didn't quite understand what was up with Macavity. I hoped I wouldn't have to find out.

"Let's go rinse off," Victoria said, breaking the silence. "I think Jenny has a scrubber. Maybe two."

"A sponge?" I ask.

"Something like that." She said, shrugging, and led us to the spout.

The faucet was a thick silver worm sticking out of a wall of garbage. How it worked, I'd never know. There was a knob with a blue circle on it next to the spout, and I noted that on the ground there was another one, with a piece of paper that said, "do not move." That one had a red circle. I assumed the blue was cold, and the red was warm—which explained why the water was so freezing. On a stool against the wall, there were two weird brown squares. I picked one up—it was a sponge. It was damp, so I squeezed it, and a bunch of brown water came pouring out of it.

"Jeez!" I hissed, moving my feet out of the way as the gross water hit the ground. "Eeew." Victoria cooed, looking at the puddle funny. I held the sponge out an arm's length away from me, holding it with a death grip.

"There are two sponges," Misto began, "you two can go first…" he trailed off. I gave him a funny look. Either he was being gross, (which I doubted, since Vicki was his sister and I was… well, _not sexy_) or he was just being a wimp. Victoria made a throaty noise, before turning the knob.

The spout made a creepy, high-pitched sound that made me cover my ears. Then, it made a low, horn-like noise and a faint rumbling. Soon, water started pouring out, and hitting the ground with sharp noises. Victoria grabbed the other sponge, and wrung it out. It did not have gross brown water in it. I tried not to think about what had changed the color of the water in my sponge. But it was hard, as I was still holding it.

I stuck my paw under the spout, letting it graze my fingertips. I quickly withdrew—the water was colder than the stuff in the bathtub had been. Ugh. "This will be fun…" I said sarcastically, sucking it up and putting the sponge under the water. Any remaining brown liquid flowed out and n to the ground.

"This is horrible." Victoria said, picking pink crust off of her arms and legs. "We're gonna have to scrub really hard to get this stuff off."

"Maybe we should pick as much off as we can before we start," Misto suggested."

"Before _we _start, you mean." I said cheekily, gesturing to Victoria. She nodded. I turned off the water, and wrung out my sponge, then set it aside. I sat on the stool—wiping it off first—and began picking at the stuff on my legs.

"This dust is, like, _really _weird." I said, wincing as the piece of crust I was picking off pulled at my fur.

"It really isn't dust any more, it's—" Misto started.

"It's _crust_, we know." Victoria sighed, and walked over to the stool. "Share your butt space." She ordered, nudging me off.

"Uggggghhh!" I whined, scooting to make room for her. Quaxoffelees just shook his head, a smile playing at his lips.

I swear it took us an hour to get cleaned off. Maybe longer for Victoria. By the time we were as clean as we could get, it was late afternoon. The three of us stumbled out of Jenny's den, in pain. We had been pulling crust out of our fur, and ached everywhere. Not to mention having to scrub so insanely hard to get the leftovers off.

"It _hurts_," Victoria groaned, resting her elbow on my shoulder.

"What hurts?" came a voice I recognized right away—Etcetera. "Hey guys!" She said cheerily, walking towards us quickly. "What happened to _you_?" she asked, giggling. She was clutching something really tightly in her left paw.

"You know that explosion and the dust? Well, we had to clean off." Mistoffelees explained. Etcetera nodded enthusiastically. Rubbing below her eye with her index finger, Etcy sighed, "You look horrible!"

"Gee, thanks…" I said, rubbing my shoulder. I couldn't help but giggle—as did Victoria.

"Found you, Etcy!" came Electra's voice. I turned to face the source, and the tortoiseshell kitten was coming towards us, a paw out so as to catch Etcy.

"Oh, crap—gotta go!" she said, glancing over her shoulder. "Hope you look better soon!" she said, laughing, and ran off.

"Etcetera!" Electra called, running after her. Those girls were fast. "Hey!" she said as she passed us, giving a quick wave. I saluted, and watched as she ran off after Etcetera, who was long gone.

"Um, whoa." Victoria said, chuckling. "I wonder what they're playing?"

"Something really heated, apparently." Misto said, whistling. I glanced at him. He was _really_ cute.

No. Shut up.

"Shall we… rest or something?" I suggested, stretching. Victoria snapped, her face showing utter surprise.

"I forgot! I need to be somewhere!"

"With Plato?" asked Mistoffelees.

"…Yes!" _Oooh, she hesitated. _I thought, trying to keep from smirking. My eyebrow twitched. That girl was up to something… "See you!" she said, then scampered off in some random direction. Jeez, she was really graceful. I was rather envious. Not totally realizing we were alone, Mistoffelees and I were silent. Until my stomach completely _roared_. I remembered that I hadn't eaten anything. I skipped Madigan's offer to feed me, and didn't hunt. Not that it would do me any good. I was a suckish hunter… it was pathetic, really. My only excuse was that I was a house cat. I could go home whenever and get food. Mistoffelees looked at me funny, his eyebrow quirked and a smirk playing at his lips.

"Hungry, are we?"

"Shh." I hissed, resting a paw on my stomach. I'm quite the slender cat, if I do say so myself. Of course, Presto never wins. I was slender and long, but I had _no _curves, and tits the size of mosquito bites. But I had a huge ass. (Excuse me, I mean butt.) I imagined that before I was born I had to fill out a questionnaire—choosing which traits I'd get and which I wouldn't, but I could only choose a few. And little unborn me didn't choose a lot of good stuff.

"Err, are you a good hunter?" I asked reluctantly.

"Mhmm… sure." He said, shrugging.

"Well, I suck. Can you catch something for me? I asked, giving up on beating around the bush. He looked at me, rather surprised.

"Really? Are you sure you're not just lazy?"

"Excuse me, but this body doesn't maintain itself." I said as I flashed a flirty little pose with my lips puckered out in a weird fashion. Misto just shook his head disapprovingly, smiling a little. I scowled, but quickly tried to covering. _Oh, come _on_. I can't get _anything _out of _anyone_? Dang it! _I thought, though in the back of my head, I wondered if it was just because it was _him_. Yeah, no. Time to go home.

"Actually, never mind, Quaxoffelees. I'm gonna go back home for today."

"Really? It's pretty early."

_Do you _want _me to stay, Mistoffelees? _"Yeah. I need to give Maddie some love."

"Maddie?"

"My owner. See you. Tell Victoria I left, please?" I said, as I began spinning on my heel.

"Yeah, sure." Misto said, nodding. "See you tomorrow." He said, and with that I was off.

I lied. I didn't feel like giving Maddie any love. (Poor girl. I'm such an independent cat.) Instead, I took an extremely long walk home. I needed to think. Firstly, I was moving to fast. With myself. How can one develop a crush on someone within _two days_? It just felt wrong to me. Or maybe it was just the feeling—being smitten over someone—that felt wrong.

I began contemplating love at first sight. That would be completely physical, though. And I didn't feel a rush of emotion when I first met Misto. You're supposed to feel that way when you fall in love, right?

Okay, good. I am not in love. That is for sure.

It's just a kitten crush. Yeah, that's right. I'm just so excited to be a Jellicle that I unconsciously decided to make myself fall in love—no, I already decided that this wasn't love.

But why couldn't it be _Tugger _or someone? I'm sure he's had his share of admirers. Like Etcy. It would've been totally normal, right? Or maybe Mistoffelees was some sort of heartthrob in his own right, and had his fair share of admirers too.

I guess that made sense. Like I said, he was really, _really _cute. Okay, I needed to stop thinking about it.

Maybe leaving the junkyard wasn't such a good thing. What would I do at home? Oh, well. I kept walking home slowly, dragging my feet. I did quicken a little.

When I reached home, Katherine and Madigan were leaving, dressed up in gym stuff. I ran up to them, and rubbed myself against their legs. "Finally decided to come home, eh?" Maddie asked, scratching my head. She straightened up and looked to Kathy. "I'll be back in a sec. I'm going to let Presto in." she said. Katherine nodded.

Madigan lead me to the room wordlessly. I noticed that when Madigan was with me, I got less attention—which was a good thing. I didn't need random people I hardly recognized ruffling up my fur or calling me the wrong name.

"You going in or what?" Madigan asked, nudging me gently with her foot. Her shoes were muddy. I gazed up at her, then to the door that she was holding open. I meowed at her, and head butted her leg before entering.

"Petri! Petri!" I shouted, looking around for the black and white tom. He was nowhere to be seen—or smelled. My ears lowered—I wanted to ask him about… guy stuff. If I knew he was out, I would have stayed at the junkyard or looked for him outside (which, I admitted, would have been frivolous). Sighing, I hopped back on to my perch. I needed to think more.

_I really, really like Mistoffelees._

* * *

Okay, that sucked. Like, bad. I'm sorry. I was having writers' block. I would have done more with the love triangle, or Prestoffelees, but I couldn't come up with anything, and the hunting thing was awkward and boring.

Plus, I had to keep in mind that it was Presto's _second day_.

Should I do a time skip? Maybe a week or two? 'Cos I wouldn't expect much to happen in the next few days.

Or I could skip to some random time at which Presto isn't such a new face anymore.

Share your opinions, please! I love you all! Bye!


	4. Round four

**Notes: **_SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE! Please read this note. Cha._

We will be time skipping. I don't know exactly how far we go, but Presto explains it. Vaguely.

Okay, first things first: I'm having second thoughts about pairing Presto up with Misto. He is used in almost every fanfic with an OC who has a relationship with a canon character.

I'll make a poll, and you guys can decide.

But then there's the matter of whom Misto would end up with instead. I'm going to stray from too-canon pairings like Misto/Vicki (plus, Vic is his sister in this story). And, though I love it, I'll stray away from Tugger/Misto slash. Unless you guys want this to be something of a crazy love fest, filled with slash, femslash, mega-non-canon pairings, and love triangles. Even if there's no slash or femslash, this will be a huge romance free-for-all. Especially with Vicki… and I have some plans for Demeter and Munkustrap.

Enjoy!

* * *

P.S. There will probably be a lot of OOCness coming up. I need it for the story. Think of it as… people using personalities to cover up "bad" ones. This is very apparent in Munkustrap. Oh, and, my editing is super lazy. Typos galore!

I lost count of how many days I had been in the tribe. In fact, I think I stopped counting at five. I felt I didn't need to count anymore. People were familiar with me, and I was familiar with them. I had some good friends, and people I looked up to. Somewhere in the crevices of my brain, the exact number of my days in the tribe is hiding. But I'd guess I had been in the tribe for nearly a month now. How time flies.

"Presto! Etcy!" called Electra, as she, Jemima, and Victoria approached us. We were having a heated discussion about those colored nail things people put on their cats. And since we were so in the zone, we completely ignored her.

"It's just _inhumane_." I said sternly.

"Well, it doesn't hurt us. They're just ugly."

"Talk about it! I saw some unfortunate tom with pink ones."

"Oh, gross! I've only seen them in old magazines people trashed!"

"_Etcy! Presto!_" Electra tried again, her voice cut off by her own giggle. We turned to look at her, strange, angry and determined looks on our faces.

"What were you talking about?" asked Jemima as the three climbed on to the TSE1 with us.

"Colored nail covers!"

"…And those are?" Victoria prompted, a confused smirk on her features.

"And you thought _I _was dumb." Etcy cooed at me, gently elbowing me. I groaned, annoyed, and threw my head to the side in a "Fuck off" sort of way. Etcy simply smiled and huffed triumphantly, putting her fists on her hips. Victoria sighed.

"Very funny… but what are they?"

"Colored nail covers. Owners put them over your claws." Answered Etcy. "They're _groooosssss_." She said, putting her paws under her chin and wiggling her fingers, while making and expression that was a cross between a grimace and a smirk. Victoria scratched her chin.

"Pink ones would be nice. They'd match my collar," she said, pointing to the pale pink, diamond-studded collar around her neck. Etcetera made a loud, disapproving noise.

"No! Have you _seen _them?"

"Well, pink might actually look good on Vicki." Electra said, leaning forward a little. I nodded. While they were ridiculous, they probably would. I wondered if nail covers would look good on me—but imagining myself with purple claws was an unfortunate thing, so I literally shook the thought off and returned to the conversation.

"Red would look good on Jemima," I said, pointing to her petite paws. Jemima was really tiny—both she and Rumpelteazer were, I noticed—and very pretty. I realized that all of my friends were pretty. Including Etcy and Electra. Maybe born-Jellicles were given the gift of good looks or something. For a second, I felt a bit intimidated, but wrote it off as fast as possible—that was no way to think about your friends. And we technically were still "new" friends. Almost a month compared to your whole life, as they had all known each other since they were newborns, was two very different things.

"Yeah," Victoria agreed, "a dark red like your fur." We all glanced at Jemima, who looked down and blushed slightly. She was a bashful kitten.

"Thanks… Red would look good on Electra too," she said, looking up.

"You guys still don't get how bad they are…" Etcy scolded, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

"_You_, my love, have never actually seen them on a cat. A tangible one."

"Pictures count!" she whined, as the rest of us laughed. Etcy was actually a really smart kitten, but jeez, she was hyper. And a bit immature—but that was Etcy. It suited her well.

"What are you girls talking about?" came a voice—which was Plato, definitely. I knew not because of the sound, but the way Victoria moved when she heard it—it was like she professed her undying love for him silently; you could tell with the way her tail flicked, or her shoulders tensed. Just for a moment, then she'd relax completely.

We turned to look at him, as he sat next to Vicki, wrapping an arm around her waist. Tumblebrutus, Pouncival, and Mistoffelees accompanied him. _Mistoffelees. _It felt a little bit hard to breathe.

My crush on Mistoffelees had developed slowly, but steadily. I didn't know why. I had, many times, come to the conclusion that he was _hot _(maybe not hot; that was Tugger's job—but he was cute), but otherwise… I didn't know. I sometimes questioned my "motives,"—did I just like him because he was cute? No, I didn't. I liked him for a lot of reasons that I couldn't specify. I just couldn't put my feelings into words. Not like I really wanted to… Okay, yes, I did. Just so I could reassure myself of something I couldn't place my paws on.

The other toms sat scattered around the hood of the TSE1—Misto was nowhere near I, which was a relief, because I'd freak out. Agh, I was such a kitten. Even though I was technically a queen… it didn't feel like it.

"Colored nail covers!" Etcy said, tackling Pouncival, her brother—as I discovered from our chat so long ago. I was quite proud of my memory.

"Hey!" Pouncival whined, and the two began to play fight, shouting high-pitched things I couldn't quite catch. It was total, hilarious play—they were grinning so hard I wondered if it hurt. The rest of us just laughed. Victoria looked a little drunk—love drunk.

"What are colored nail covers?" Pounce asked, panting, as he and Etcy settled down. Etcetera won, as I knew would happen. No one could give in to her kitten eyes. And she gave them to him, full force. Not that they were really arguing, or that Etcy was pleading something.

"Colored nail covers." Plato answered. So Etcetera and I weren't the only ones who knew about them! Or maybe Plato just assumed? I wanted to go with the former. It felt weird to know about something so weird and have no ne—besides Etcetera—know about it too.

"Well, yeah. What are they?" asked Pounce.

"Just what they sound like," said Plato, "covers your human puts on your nails. They are colored. They're really thin, but kinda scratchy."

"Waaaait." I said, putting up my hand. "You know what they feel like?" I asked accusingly. Plato's face flushed. He obviously didn't want to admit to wearing nail covers in front of Victoria—who was holding in her laughter.

"Uh, yeah. Green ones." The rest of us lost it—Plato, who was the epitome of coolness (well, almost), had been forced to wear _green nail covers_.

"Dude, that's hilarious," I said, wiping my eye.

"I think it's cute," Vicki said, her voice all mushy (if one's voice can sound like that), kissing Plato's cheek.

"Oh, get a _roooooom_!" Etcy giggled.

"Ha, ha, _ha_." Victoria said, smirking, as she scooted closer to her one true love. Or maybe just the first… I hadn't forgotten about that potential love triangle, though I really hadn't noticed anything since the bathtub. Maybe I needed to do some stalking? Yes, I'd do that.

"So… Plato…" Electra began, tracing circles in the hood of the car. "What _exactly _is it like wearing nail covers?" she inquired, sideways glancing at him. Plato groaned, throwing his head back. He _so _wanted to change the subject.

"Humiliating and uncomfortable," he sighed, as Victoria rested her head on his shoulder. It was really cute how in love they were. Could Mistoffelees and me be like that?

Wait, what? No.

"What colors do they come in?" she asked, glancing from me, to Etcetera, to Plato. I guessed we were the nail cover experts now. Poor Plato.

"Red, pink, purple…" I trailed off, counting on my fingers.

"Green, yellow…" Plato contributed.

"Clear, orange, black, and…" Etcetera said airily, counting on her fingers. She looked to the sky, searching for the answer.

"I think that's it." I concluded. The others just looked.

"_How_ do you know this?" asked Mistoffelees. Bah-boom goes my heart.

"Magazines people threw out!" Etcy declared proudly. I shrugged, and said, "My owner's magazines."

"Experience," Plato said, visibly shuddering. Victoria chuckled.

"So, any reason why you interrupted our girl talk?" I asked smugly, lying down on my belly, propped up by my elbows. I rested my cheek in my right paw.

"We wanted to know what almost-queens talk about!" Tumblebrutus said enthusiastically.

"'Scuse me, but miss Presto here ain't an almost-queen." Etcetera mocked, trying to use a voice that sounded like mine—I was happy to say it was nothing close. My voice was deeper than Etcetera's, and she went all squeaky.

"The girl is right!" I announced. "I am a _queen_, thank you."

"You don't act like one," Mistoffelees said.

"Ohhhh, _burrrrrrrrrn_," Etcetera hissed playfully.

"Well, I act like more of a tom than _you_." I spat, smirking. He raised an eyebrow. I closed my eyes, smiling triumphantly, and rested my head in both hands.

"I think they're in love." Victoria stated flatly. My eyes snapped open, and I struggled to keep from sputtering.

"_WHAT?_" I said—and so did Mistoffelees. We stared at each other in horror as we realized we had spoken in unison. A feeling of _cliché_ nicked at the back of my brain.

"Uh, yeah, _no_. Sorry, Misty, but I need someone more manly than myself." I said—lied—sticking my tongue out.

"And I need someone more feminine than myself."

"Excuse _me_, but I'm wearing a flipping _pink bow_. That is, like, the epitome of feminine…ness." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Yep, it's true. They're destined for each other." Tumble agreed, and I wanted to punch him. And Plato, just for the heck of it. I groaned loudly, dropping my head. I glanced around, though it was a bit hard to see anyone under my… either my eyebrow lid (whatever you call it) or my eyelids. Jemima looked rather morose. It was only for a second, then she was back to being innocent and peaceful. _Maybe she likes Mistoffelees? _I thought. _But I thought she liked Alonzo… Eep. So that would mean she's in _two _love triangles!_

Wait, no. Misto doesn't like me. No triangle there.

In the back of my mind I was rather glad he didn't, because it would be awkward. And, I'm not the most attractive kit out there—nor am I the nicest. I had _no _experience with toms whatsoever, outside of Petri. And Arti, but they didn't really count—Arti was a creep, and Petri was like my dad. My gay dad.

"You know who makes a really cute couple?" Etcy said, her tone sly.

"Who?" inquired Electra.

"Alonzo and Jemima." She cooed proudly. All eyes turned to Jemima, whose face was as pink as the nail covers that poor tom I saw was wearing. Her eyes were ten times as wide as usual, and it was actually pretty cute. I sat up again, crossing my legs.

"W-what?" she squeaked.

"You _know _it." Electra said, poking the kit's shoulder.

"Of course, Cassandra has to get in the way." Victoria sighed, still in something of an embrace with Plato. She had wrapped her arm around his waist. To be honest, it didn't look that comfortable.

"Who 'ets in the way?" came a voice. I recognized the accent immediately. It was Rumpelteazer. Something told me that my, Vicki, Electra, Etcetera, and Jemima's girl talk had ended for the rest of the day.

"Hey, Teazer!" Etcy said, saluting her. A loud crash came from behind the TSE1, followed by cursing. The cats on the TSE1 were silent, just focusing on what the hell was happening. Soon, a haggard Mungojerrie climbed on to the TSE1, accidentally ramming his head into my back.

"'Ey, sorry," he said, rubbing his forehead.

"No worries," I said, scooting out of the way so he could get up. As soon as he was on the old car, a big brown bag in each hand, he shot a glare at Teazer.

"Wha' was 'at for?" he asked, rubbing his shoulder. Rumpelteazer giggled. I knew that giggle—now, at least. Everyone did. It was her trademark giggle that meant mischief was afoot. Except, there wasn't much going on now, besides a group of young cats being stupid.

"You was bein' slow!" She said, flapping her paw at him. "Didja break mah loot?"

"Break your loot? I nea'ly broke my arm!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Etcy intervened. "What happened? The jury will decide who's guilty of what."

"The jury?" Mistoffelees said, perplexed.

"Yes. Us." Etcy confirmed, her tone stern. She was a ball of fire, that girl.

"Mungo 'ere tripped while we was on a _spree_, an' we nea'ly got caught!"

"'Ey, if you would carry ya own bag, I wouldn't 'ave!"

"Objection! You outbursted or something." Etcy said, putting her hand up. I imagined her in a striped shirt, shorts, and a baseball cap, with a whistle hanging out of her mouth. She would be… a referee, I believed. Mungojerrie looked at her like she was insane—which she was—as did Rumpelteazer and most of the rest of us.

"A'yway, we was out _shoppin'_,"—stealing, duh—"then Jerrie tripped an' this crazy chick an' a Pollicle hardly bigger than Jemima started chasin' afta us. I booked it, but Mungo was bein' all slow." She leaned towards Etcetera, and said in a quieter voice, that was still loud enough for everyone to hear, "'E's losin' 'is luster, I tell ya." She shook her head in mock horror, and Etcy giggled. She quickly recovered, though, remembering her judge persona.

"Har, har, har." Mungojerrie hissed. "Teaze 'ere made me run afta her while this _rat _and fat lady came a' me like a buncha monkeys! And when I finally lost 'em, she was no where ta be seen!"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Electra said to Rumpelteazer, shaking her head.

"But then 'e caught up ta me and I made sure 'e was okay." Rumpelteazer said, dragging out each word, annoyed.

"'Ow? You just asked me if I was a'right then fro'icked away!" Mungojerrie complained.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Teazer sighed, hopping off the TSE1. "Don't get ya fur in a wad," she giggled, scampering away.

"That girl," Mungojerrie muttered. He gathered the bags and jumped off the TSE1 with some sort of masculine grace, then hollered back, "_Toodle pip!_" in a tone that matched Bustopher Jones's voice. It was a little creepy how much he sounded like him.

"Well, _that _was interesting." Pouncival said, after whistling a long, low whistle.

"Teazer is worse than me," I said, using my paw as a visor, looking after them.

"Presto, I don't think anyone is as bad as you," Victoria cooed. I shot a glare at her, but she just looked to the sky like she was an angel.

I don't know how long we talked, that big group and me. How many cats was it? Nine? Wow. I don't think I ever felt more accepted—despite feeling a bit dumb when someone said an inside joke I didn't understand. I realized that I still was a newcomer, and there was no getting around it. There would be memories I wasn't a part of, connections and relationships I'd never be in. Except maybe with Mistoffelees.

Eh? What, no! Jeez, Presto—control your thoughts for once.

The group began to disband. Vicki and Plato went off on a date—I wanted to follow them (I guessed I would never get over stalking the Jellicles), but I had no excuse to leave other than go home—Tumble and Pounce went to... well, be toms. That left Jemima, Etcetera, Electra, Mistoffelees, and myself. Why couldn't he leave? Agh! I assumed he didn't want to look dorky and leave by himself—but Mistoffelees wasn't like that, right? He always seemed so… uncaring. But not in that way. And truthfully, I didn't want him to leave—but not with Etcetera here, or Jemima, with that face she made earlier. What made the situation a bit weirder was that we were all on our backs, looking out on to the main clearing with our vision turned upside down. I imagined that it would make a great picture, our heads all in a row like bowling balls. Luckily, I was on the end, next to Jemima, who was next to Electra, who was next to Etcetera, leaving Mistoffelees on the other side. If he were one queenkit closer to me, I would have freaked.

"…That's why Munkustrap is better." Said Jemima.

_Wait, what did I miss? _"Munkustrap is your _dad_, Jemima. Of course you think he's cooler than Alonzo. You just don't want to seem like a love struck kitten." Said Electra.

"Because I'm not!"

"Oh, of course you aren't!" said Etcetera sarcastically. I could imagine her rolling her eyes. "You're just completely, totally, and undeniably head over heels with him."

"Am not!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. C'mon, kitties. We have business to attend to." Etcetera said regally, sitting up. And so did the other kittens. Knowing they were going to leave me—and Mistoffelees, _ALONE_—I stalled them. It was still the afternoon, I had no reason to go home, and that would be—as I said—my only reason to leave. And it would be rude to leave him alone, wouldn't it? And he'd be suspicious if I left for _home_, in the middle of the day, as other kittens left, and would leave us alone.

"Where are w—" Electra started, cut off by Etcetera's hand. She narrowed her eyes, and glared at her.

"We're going _Tugger hunting_." She said dangerously.

"Oooh." Electra said, nodding dumbly.

"Onwards!" Etcetera said, standing up. Without hesitation, she grabbed Jemima and Electra by the wrists. She looked to me, then to Mistoffelees.

"Farewell, my loves." She said, and dragged Jemima and Electra away. They didn't protest—they knew they were beaten. When it came to Tugger, nothing stopped Etcetera. Even with her little crush on Tumblebrutus, which she happily announced to Electra and me the other day.

"Wait, what?" I said, trying to cover the desperation in my voice. Etcetera winked at me, as she ran off with Jemima and Electra. I turned to Mistoffelees, trying to hide the mix of emotions I felt—excitement, embarrassment, surprise, and fear—from my face. "So… hello,"

"You don't have to stay, y'know." I looked at him like he had some sort of contagious disease—_stupidity._

"Why do you stay that?"

"You obviously don't like me that much."

_Actually, you'd be surprised. _"Same goes for you." Silence. I stared at my foot paws, and imagined what I'd look like with colored nail covers again. But this time, pink ones. I looked ridiculous. I truly wished I were cuter. Or even if I had a more unique fur pattern—pure white, like Vicki's, or with cool red like Bombalurina. Maybe even a dark chocolate all over, like Exotica. (I noted that I'd seen her maybe five times, and spoken with her less—once, for maybe three minutes.)

"…What's your favorite color?" I tried, a sorry attempt to break the silence.

"Blue," he answered plainly. "Why?"

"Generic ice breaker. I'm not one for silence…"

"I can tell." I made an annoyed noise, not in the mood to protest. Then more silence. I was always so talkative… I guess toms with split personality disorder did that to you; made you silent. I resisted the urge to giggle.

"Would you like to walk somewhere?"

_OH! DAMN! BALLS, PRESTO! BALLS! I AM _SO _PROUD OF YOU! _Inner me shouted, ready to wet herself with excitement. What was I _thinking_? Obviously nothing, as I made such an idiotic offer… Not like I wouldn't be stoked if he accepted.

"Sure," he said, and I was ready to do some sort of dance. I was a bad dancer though—so no dancing for me. We stood up, slowly and awkwardly. I wondered if he really, truly did think I disliked him. Maybe I was just really good at keeping secrets—_my_ secrets.

"Uh, where to?" I asked, scratching my cheek.

"Hey, you were the one who offered,"

"I really haven't explored the junkyard yet…" I admitted. I really needed to get to doing that.

"Then let's explore." He said, shrugging. He slid off the TSE1, with a grace that I could never even dream about having. _Damn_.

We walked around aimlessly for about five minutes before anyone said anything more.

"Do you think something's going on between Victoria and Mungojerrie?" I blurted. I mentally hit myself for asking that, and for not paying attention to Victoria when Mungojerrie had appeared earlier. Mistoffelees looked at me, surprised.

"Actually… yes," he said hesitantly.

"I wonder why. She seems so _in love_ with Plato." Mistoffelees looked down, contemplating.

"Do you like Jemima?" I asked, imperceptibly pinching myself on the hip—as best I could—for being so stupid. What was with these questions? Stupid! He looked at me again, this time looking a little more shocked than surprised. I wasn't one to read facial expressions, but I really hoped he wasn't thinking something like, _She can see right through me!_

Because I would be heartbroken. I needed to admit that to myself.

_God, _that tom was cute.

He was silent for a moment, hesitating. "I don't know. She's nice, but she doesn't talk much,"

"I would think you'd like that in a queen."

"Well, they should at least talk more than me."

_I do that! _"I do that." Wait, what? Oh god, did I really just say that? I wanted to crawl into a hole—or better, get hit by a car. Me and my big mouth! I didn't want to hear what he was going to say next. _I want to leave, now._

"What?" he asked, and I tried my hardest not to look at him.

"Nothing, never mind," I said quickly.

"Do you say, 'I do that'?"

"Um… yes?" No use lying. I was trapped. I really didn't want him to find out I liked him right at that second—actually, I didn't want him to find out _ever_. Seriously. "I mean, it's true. I never shut up." I said, hoping I covered up my hesitation and nervousness.

"I can't deny that," he said—he sounded just a little bit shaken. I could tell why. Having a queen like me have a crush on you had to be unnerving. _A queen like me._

"Seeing as you're into asking blunt questions," he started, and I gulped, "do you like me?"

"What? No." I said simply, hoping I sounded convincing.

"_Suuuuuure._" He teased, looking up towards the sky. I, on the other hand, looked straight ahead, trying to ignore the heat traveling to my face.

"Where are we?" I asked, as we passed an old fridge. It looked familiar, but I couldn't place my paw on it. I was probably just being weird.

"…I don't know."

"So we're lost?"

"No. I just don't really know what our exact location is."

"Understandable." I said, nodding. I was quite pleased that we had changed the topic—or at least took the focus off of me. I didn't need any attention at that point in time. Seriously. I still had the urge to ask him if _he _liked _me_, which would have been dumb. Of course he didn't. But there was always a chance he did, right? Yes, there was.

"So…" I started. "Do you know what's going on with Vicki and Mungojerrie?" I asked.

"I think Victoria's cheating on Plato."

"Damn! How much did I _miss_?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking at me with his eyebrow cocked.

"Since the bath tub incident I had my suspicions about Mungo and Vicki. But I never got a chance to stalk—err, investigate them."

"Stalk them?"

"Hey, I said _investigate_, not stalk!" I protested, slapping him on the shoulder. Mistoffelees laughed, and I thought I would melt then and there. How many times had I thought or said he was cute? I lost count, but I'll say it again—that tom was _adorable_. Ugh.

"Of course you did." He cooed—cooed? Wow, I never heard him sound so laid back. Mistoffelees was a little uptight.

Do _not _get any ideas, Presto.

"Hey." I said, putting my paw on his shoulder. Despite being too damned close to his face, I tried my best to keep my face serious and my tone level. "Let's go investigate them."

"Stalk Plato and Victoria?"

"Sure. We're going sleuthing." Mistoffelees shrugged.

"Why not?"

"Exactly. Onwards!" I said, and booked it. But then I realized I had no idea where I was going. I stopped running—nearly tripping, and having to windmill my arms to stay balanced—and turned around, to see Mistoffelees jogging up to me. He cocked a brow, smirking at my expression. I was embarrassed. Impulsive.

"… Where's their date?" I asked, chuckling nervously.

"Some place near the vicarage wall." He answered.

"I don't know where that is." I said, wide-eyed.

"Follow me, then," he said, and began walking quickly. (But not as fast as Alonzo. Alonzo walked very fast.) I wished he had held out his hand so he'd escort me like a princess, but he wouldn't do that. And I was no princess.

We walked for a good five minutes, before we reached the vicarage wall. We were silent, entering stealth mode. We scaled the side of the wall, keeping close to the ground and right up against it. Soon enough, we heard the sound of voices—I recognized the first easily. It was Victoria. But the second, I didn't know at all.

"Stop it! It tickles!" Victoria squealed through fits of laughter. I found myself blushing. That could mean really anything. I felt rather perverted for letting my mind stray into the gutter, but… well, hey. It sounded kinda raunchy. I wanted to see what Mistoffelees's expression was, but we were being stealthy.

"Not until you give me a kiss." Said the male's voice. I vaguely recognized it. I knew it wasn't Plato.

"Not until you use the accent again!" Wait, whoa—_what_? Mistoffelees scurried faster, and I followed behind him, trying my best to stay quiet.

"I use the accent all the time. It gets hard to breathe." The male said again. I still wasn't sure who it was. But the voice sounded so familiar.

"I won't kiss you till you do!" Vicki protested. The male let out a loud sigh, and spoke again.

"Fine. What should I say?"

"Tell me you love me." I stifled a gasp.

"I love you."

"There was no accent there, Mungojerrie! Try again."

What?

Heaviside, I was right. Mistoffelees looked back at me, his mouth slightly parted. He looked rather mortified. I probably did, too.

"_So she is cheating on him,_" I said in a barely audible voice. Mistoffelees nodded, and edged closer to the corner of the wall. I wanted to see around it, but I would probably blow our cover.

"Victoria? Is someone there?" came a third voice—Plato's voice. I could hear a few hushed words, and steps approaching Mistoffelees and I.

"_Hide!_" Mistoffelees hissed, taking my hand—_taking my hand_—and leading me behind an old mattress. Mungojerrie's dainty but masculine steps passed us, along with quiet humming.

"Hey, Plato! No, no one's here." Victoria said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. The voices were pretty faint now, being trapped behind a mattress. Trapped behind a mattress, impossibly close to Mistoffelees.

"Let's get going," said Plato. I could hear their footsteps approaching us, and I almost said something—but as I opened my mouth, Mistoffelees covered it with his paw. I resisted the urge to sniff. (I'm so creepy.) We were _really _close. His knee was touching mine, and his side was pressed against me. We were _so _close, I could squeal. But I needed to focus—not on Mistoffelees and me, but Plato, Victoria, and Mungojerrie (who was long gone, but still relevant).

I tried my hardest to focus on the conversation, but I just couldn't. I kept focusing on the fact that Mistoffelees was _so _close to me. I almost sniffed his hand, which was still over my mouth. A good precaution.

"Presto!" Misto hissed.

"What?" I said airily, returning to my senses.

"We can go."

"Oh, okay." And he led us out. It felt so suddenly cold without him near me. Not to mention the early autumn air was a little chilly. The sun was nearly gone—when had it gotten so late?—and within moments of emerging from behind the mattress, the streetlamps flickered and turned on. The sidewalks were bathed in pale orange. I hugged myself, imagining one of those scenes in movies Madigan and Katherine watched—the girl would be cold, and the boy would put his coat on her. However, our coats were connected to us, and… well, me and Misty just weren't like that.

"Are you going back to the main clearing?" Mistoffelees asked me, gently putting three fingertips to my forearm. I wished he would just use his whole hand, but that was a pipe dream.

I really hoped it wasn't, though.

Jeez, I was getting a bit depressed thinking about Mistoffelees. Time to get over him. (Not that anything had started.) I nodded my head at him.

"I want to talk to Victoria for a second."

"Okay. Do you think you can get back yourself? I have somewhere I've got to go."

_Where? _"Yeah, I'll be fine." I answered, nodding slowly. "See you tomorrow." I said, before spinning on my heel, in the direction we came from.

"Bye," he said. I turned around to see him, but he was gone. He was a magical cat indeed. I quickly scampered back towards the clearing, but promptly stopped as I heard a pair of voices. I recognized one—Mungojerrie, without his accent. I wondered why he only used the accent sometimes. The other was female, and I assumed it was Rumpelteazer without _her _accent.

"Who're you seeing tonight?" Mungojerrie asked.

"Tiger Stripes," _Who's Tiger Stripes? _I thought. Mungojerrie chuckled.

"All right. See you around."

"Hey, wait—is it really over?" Rumpelteazer asked, her voice concerned. I craned my neck upwards, so I could see if it was them. I could see the top of someone's head.

"Is what really over?"

"You and _her_." She put deadly emphasis on the word, her tone dripping with malice. Was it Victoria she was talking about?

"Nope. Saw her earlier today. We're still steady." Mungojerrie laughed.

"And secret," Rumpelteazer added. "_Another _secret." She finished. I gasped. Another queen? These Jellicles had some serious social issues. It was like a feline soap opera. All I knew at that point, though, was that I _had _to find out who the other queen was. I scowled at how nosey I was. Mungojerrie laughed again.

"Yeah, yeah, sis." And with that, they were silent. I continued on my way back to the junkyard.

I didn't hear anyone else talking—except for a few giggling kittens, and a scolding Jenny. But just as I reached the main clearing, I heard two very welcome and friendly voices. They were close. Very close. I ducked behind a junk pile instinctively. (Well, I'm just paranoid.)

"So, which one is it tonight?" came a queen's voice—Demeter.

"Rumpelteazer." Said Munkustrap. _Munkustrap? Tiger Stripes? _I thought, pieces coming together in my head. Well, almost. I covered my mouth, hoping they couldn't hear my squeak. It went unnoticed.

"What about you?" Munkustrap asked. I noticed there was a cocky edge to his voice I had never heard before. It was kinda sexy.

"Alonzo." I was ready to scream _Holy shit _at this point. I needed to sort things out…

"Heh. He's got a lot on his plate…" Munkustrap sang. I thought I heard something of a high five, and the two disappeared. All this was really shocking. Demeter and Munkustrap seemed so in love. Alonzo seemed to have his paws full with Jemima and Cassandra. Rumpelteazer and Munkustrap? In my head, they just didn't fit. But you never know. A sneaky curiosity bubbled up in the back of my head, while nervousness pooled in my stomach. I had a lot to learn.

This was an interesting tribe indeed.

* * *

Yay, things are heating up. A little. I might change POV in the next few chapters. I wanted to keep it in Presto's view the entire time, but it's not workin' out.

Anyway, I'd like to say that **Krissy4 **planted Rumpelteazer/Munkus in my head. And introduced me to the nickname "Tiger Stripes."

I'll tell you in my author's note whose POV I'm using. I won't change during a chapter. If I change the point of view, and don't say anything about it in the next chapter, it's the same cat's point of view.

Review, please! And tell me what pairings/love triangles you'd like to see! (Yes, Presto can be included. And maybe Macavity.)

By the way. I'm thinking of adding another OC. Don't get your hopes up, though.


	5. Round five

**Notes:**

This chapter switches POV's. I had to. Sorry. It just says their name, and I use a line thing to separate them.

Though Presto's piece is tiny and rather irrelevant.

I didn't get any opinions on adding femslash/slash pairings in here, so I won't do any yet.

My self-set deadline for introducing couples, secret lives (maybe), and love triangles/squares/octagons is the end of the next chapter. So suggest!

By the way, I made a small alteration to Presto's character design. Her hair/wig will look more like everyone else's (if you want to be specific, Etcetera's), but with the same patterns.

This chapter's not edited and shorter than the others… Oops.

Onwards!

P.S. I want to tell you guys what pairings and love triangles I have planned, but ugh!It would spoil everything!

Write faster, me!

And, sorry, this chapter gets very list-like.

* * *

_Victoria_

He was irresistible. Simply irresistible. I wanted to touch him, and I wanted him to touch me. His voice was so velvety, so distinct. I melted a little more with every syllable he spoke. Everyone thought he talked funny, but I knew otherwise. So did his sister, but that was okay. I was still his special queen.

The sun was just. Pale pinks and blue washed over the city, so beautiful and colorful. Alas, I could only focus on the sky for a second, as Mungojerrie brushed my cheek. His eyes were tired, but gentle and slightly concerned. I glanced down at his other paw, which rested on my knee. If Plato was here, he would be crushed.

"Is something… wrong?" I asked slowly. I didn't want to break our precious silence, but I had to. He looked so worried for me.

"I feel bad," Mungojerrie said quietly. He didn't use his accent around me—it was fake. A cover-up. He wouldn't tell me what for, but I knew. I loved his accent, but he said it made it hard to breathe sometimes. I didn't want to hassle him, so—sometimes—I let him drop it.

"…why?"

"You're lying to him." Mungojerrie said, leaning in towards me and resting his head on my shoulder. I rested my head on his and closed my eyes.

"What?" I asked. It was getting worse. I knew it.

"You're lying to him," Mungojerrie repeated, a little bit louder. I wanted to cry. He didn't know yet.

"Oh, he knows. He's with Bombalurina, and he knows I'm with you."

"Bomb? Her?"

"Yeah. I know about her and Plato knows about you… I can't help but feel a little jealous though." I said, the last part hardly audible.

"I'm sure he feels the same way," Mungojerrie said quietly, butterfly kissing my neck. I couldn't help but shiver. I didn't know what it was from, though—the early-morning cold, his touch, or both.

"I don't want to leave you," I said, wrapping my arms around him.

"I don't want to leave _you_," Mungojerrie said, and suddenly the world felt warm and comfortable. I smiled—no, I grinned from ear to ear. I was elated. I felt like a balloon—I'd fly away any second now, but then I'd get hit by a plane and reality would hit.

"I'm sleepy." I whispered. I could hardly hear myself.

"Go ahead, fall asleep." Mungojerrie said, pulling away from me. I gave him a sad look, at which he just closed his eyes and chuckled. I lightly held on to his shoulder as he laid me down on the cold rooftop. We had left the junkyard… I was still a kitten, but I was close enough. Come next Jellicle ball, I would be a queen, just like Presto. I would never admit it, but I was a little disappointed when Presto said she was already a queen. I was supposed to be the oldest queenkit. Actually, I kind of still was. But… if Presto was younger, she'd have to leave before the sun went down instead of whenever she wanted (not saying I wanted her to leave—I just wanted to be able to leave whenever I wanted, as well). Not to mention that if she wanted to make a den here, she wouldn't have to be with everyone else, like most of us did.

But that was irrelevant. I gently pressed my fingertips against Mungojerrie's cheek, then rested my paws on my stomach and closed my eyes. Mungojerrie chuckled.

"Don't sleep like that, it looks like you're dead." He said, lying down next to me. "Face me," he said gently. I did as I was told, and smiled at him. I opened my eyes for just a second, making absolutely sure he was the last thing I saw before I went to sleep. Then I closed my eyes, and let slumber take over.

When I woke up, probably moments later, Mungojerrie wasn't there. He never was. I sat up slowly, and resisted the urge to cry. He _had _to leave. He wouldn't say why. But I knew. Tears welled up, and the faint noise of a plane filled the air. It was too quiet for comfort.

I was going deaf.

Jellylorum and Jenny told me once I was old enough to understand. _Pure white cats are very rare among the Jellicles, Victoria. You're very lucky. _Andthey'd make me so happy. I'd feel beautiful. But then, they'd tell me the bad news. _But when you get older, it will get hard to hear. It will get harder and harder until you can't hear anymore. You'll need someone to assist you, and you won't be able to leave the junkyard, so as not to get hurt. It's a terrible, terrible price for your beauty, Victoria, but you must pay it._

I would tell them they were wrong. I would be able to hear all the time. But these days, I could swear I could hardly hear my thoughts.

But I was so _young! _How could I be losing my hearing _now_? Etcetera, Electra, Jemima, Tumblebrutus, Pouncival—all of the young cats could hear perfectly. They could whisper and wouldn't struggle to hear. They could play tag and scream as loud as they wanted without worrying about being too loud. I never knew if I was being too quiet or too loud. It was horrible. Confusing.

And soon, I wouldn't have to worry about it at all. I wouldn't be able to hear anyone. Nothing. The world would be silent.

_You'll need someone to assist you, _Jenny had told me. Who would I choose? Who would I burden with being my keeper? I wouldn't want to hold Etcetera back, or Jemima, or Electra. I could imagine it—they'd accept, and they'd seem perfectly content with it, but they'd sit by the sidelines, watching games and dances with sad eyes, knowing they couldn't participate. They'd have to take care of me.

I surely wouldn't want to burden Plato or Mungojerrie. I wouldn't mind having either of them by my side, always, but who would want a deaf queen as their mate? (No, I was not mated, I was too young.) How would people react if I chose Mungojerrie?

What if I decided to leave before I had to choose?

That seemed so tempting. Leaving the junkyard before I lost my hearing completely. I could walk down the street, not a care in the world. Some evil cat could sneak up on me, and quickly destroy me, kill me. Or I could do it myself.

No, Victoria. You won't.

I hated this. I didn't want to stop hearing—who wanted to? I wouldn't hear Jemima sing, Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer's accents, Etcetera's squeals, I wouldn't even be able to hear myself. I wouldn't be able to speak. I wouldn't know what I was saying, if I said anything at all.

Death was very tempting.

I sighed, staring at the sky with sad eyes. I hadn't slept for very long at all, which was a good and a bad thing. I was tired, but no one in the junkyard would be up yet. I stood up slowly, glancing down at the junkyard from the rooftops. Dear god, I felt so hopeless and lonely. I had been _so _happy moments ago. I needed people, I needed someone to be with me to be strong. I couldn't stand alone.

And soon enough, I wouldn't have to. A blessing and a curse. A horrible, irreversible curse. I let myself cry, only for a few minutes, then I began mini-parkour, finding my way down to the junkyard.

I stood outside the main entrance of the junkyard, where an opening to the main clearing was. I scampered closer to it. No one was out.

"Victoria?" came a voice. Again, the sound was too quiet. I looked around—I couldn't tell where it was coming from. I only knew who it was because I had heard that voice ever since I was born—Quaxo. Though I had gotten into the habit of calling him either at any time—as did the other kittens—thanks to Presto's confusion. I kept looking around, till his voice rang out again, louder. "Victoria," he repeated, and hopped down in front of me.

"Misto… I'm scared," I said, a little shocked at just how helpless I sounded. I looked up at my brother—his face read to be just as sad as my own. Misto knew, Jelly knew, Jenny knew, and it was happening to me. They knew, but they didn't have to live with it.

"I know, Vicki," he said, and I could hardly hear him. I hugged him, a tear squeezing out between my eyelids. He squeezed me tightly.

"I didn't ask for this, Misto," I said quietly.

"I know,"

"I don't want this,"

"I know, sis,"

"I'm _so _scared, Misto. I really am." I said, pulling away. Misto ruffled my head fur like he used to, and I couldn't help but crack a little smile. "It's going to be okay, Victoria. We'll protect you, all of us."

"But you shouldn't have to,"

"It doesn't matter, Victoria." Misto said sternly. I scowled, stepping back. He sighed melodramatically. "Come on, embrace that you still have it."

"Barely!" I shouted—but I made sure not to be too loud. "I can't hear myself think anymore! When Etcetera wants to tell me a secret, I have to nod like I understand! And soon, I won't know if someone's talking to me unless I see them, Misto!"

"Victoria…" Misto said sadly, looking down. I calmed down, tears building up in my eyes. I wished I could go back in time, when we were kittens, romping around the junkyard without a care. I could hear fine, I could hear everything. Why couldn't it be like that again? Why couldn't I be a tuxedo cat like Misto? Why couldn't I have daddy's green eyes like he did? Why did mine have to be blue? Why did my fur have to be white?

Tears gushed down my face, and words spilled out of my mouth. I wasn't sure, but I think I was drooling a little, I was so depressed. "I didn't want this, Misto. Why can't I look like you? Why can't I have different colors? Why did this have to happen so soon, Misto?" I sputtered, wiping my eyes as even more tears fell. Misto just looked down. He knew he couldn't help, and he knew he could never understand. I didn't blame him.

I calmed down, wiping my eyes to see Misto looking at me, his eyes filled with concern and depression, and a million other negative emotions I couldn't place.

"I'm gonna go, okay, Misto…?" I said quietly, sniffing. He nodded slowly, slightly biting his lip.

"Cheer up," he said, looking up at me.

"I can't."

"I know."

"See you, Misto."

"See you." And I left. I didn't know where I was going. My eyes would be puffy and blurred from the tears, and I was just so depressed over all. I climbed a random junk pile, glancing back to see if my brother was still there. He was gone, of course. I wondered where he went. Maybe to talk to Coricopat and Tantomile? To confide in Tugger? Or maybe he went to talk to Jelly and Jenny. I wouldn't know.

When I crested the junk pile, I laid down on my belly. It was a tall junk pile, tall enough for no one to see me, but too tall for me to hear. I would have to be down there in the action to hear. The sun was high in the sky, and cats were lazily emerging from their dens. Except for Etcetera, of course, who was hopping around. She was obviously very happy about something. But then she stopped suddenly, almost walking straight into Jemima and Electra. I couldn't see her face, but I could tell she was concerned. Etcetera's expressions changed so quickly. It was pretty adorable.

Electra and Jemima shook their heads. She asked them something. Etcetera's head quickly whipped around to look at the main entrance. Presto walked in. The three ran over to her, talking to her about something. She shrugged, and shook her head. I assumed they asked her the same question.

They conversed more, and I itched to know what they were talking about. But I would wait. I would make myself content with watching. I would have to do that soon, anyway, and practice pays off. The four parted, searching high and low for something. I told myself they were looking for me.

Alonzo went up to Jemima. Jemima held her paws in front her chest, her legs pressed together—it was almost like she was begging for something, but she wasn't the one speaking at that point in time. Alonzo said something, and she nodded furiously. He patted her head, and was off. Etcetera ran over to her excitedly, followed by Electra, then Presto, who tripped over he own paws. I giggled. But then, as they spoke so excitedly, I realized they had stopped their hypothetical search for me. And I was jealous.

Saving grace—Electra piped up, and they split up again, continuing their search. Presto when up to Misto, and I looked away. Etcetera went up to Munkustrap. They conversed, and Munkustrap said something that made Etcetera very visibly relax. Then I searched for Jemima. She was in a shaded place, away from most cats' prying eyes—but not mine. She was kissing Alonzo.

I had seen enough.

It was about time I showed my face. I entered the junkyard normally, only to be ambushed by Etcetera, Electra, Jemima, and Presto.

"Oh my _god_, Vicki! I hate you so much! We were worried sick about you!" Etcetera cried, squeezing me. I wanted to cry again.

"Where _were _you?" Jemima asked, her sweet voice flooded with concern. I could feel my eyes burning. I hated this.

"I woke up early and took a walk, a long one." I lied, a little surprised that I could look straight into Jemima's all-knowing eyes, and lie. Fib. Deceive.

"… Well, are you okay?" Presto asked. Presto had sharp, dull eyes. She could not see anything, figuratively.

_No, not at all, actually. _"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired." I said, nodding. Presto looked at me, concerned, and I imagined what she'd look like with eyes like a kitten's, instead of eyes shaped beyond her years. And we were silent.

"So, um," Etcy started, "I had something I wanted to tell you—I would have told you sooner, but we couldn't find you." She said apologetically. I had a feeling I knew what she was going to say, but I'd never know.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to seem intrigued. I felt very tired. Worn-out. Maybe I needed a new collar or something… A makeover. Maybe I needed to hurry up and become a queen already.

"Tumblebrutus asked to go to the Ball with me!" she squealed, her eyes shining with excitement. When she caught my gaze, her happiness faltered. We both knew it was wrong. She told me all about her secret tom—except for his name—and I knew it wasn't Tumble, the poor kit. Etcetera quickly covered her sinking expression with one of pure elation.

"That's great, Etcy! But doesn't he know the Ball isn't for a few months now?"

"He wanted to prepare, he said."

"Wait, when's the Ball?" Presto asked. I realized that, outside of what she had seen, Presto didn't really know the traditions of the tribe yet. Or the inner workings and scandals.

"In maybe three months. Since it's your first one, you'll probably only get those little solos everyone gets." I said, shrugging.

"Oh, dude, I would die if I got anything more than a few words. So, there…" she trailed off. Presto had an accent, I noted. It was faint, but she sounded very American, with a little west coast surfer in there… note to self: do _not _listen to Exotica's stories about her travels, or her descriptions of accents. Exotica truly did deserve her name—she was a sleek, mysterious cat who hardly appeared in the junkyard, always going on travels to amazing places and telling me and the other queenkits her stories. When she felt like it, of course. Exotica wasn't _that _talkative.

"What should we do now? There's nothing _fun _to do in the junkyard." Etcetera whined, placing her paw on my shoulder.

"We could play hide and seek," Jemima tried.

"Elementary, dear Watson!" Etcetera shouted. She watched too many movies… when she snuck out with her secret tom.

"Well, what should we do?" Electra asked, placing her paw on her hip.

"I know!" I said cheerfully. "We could play with those buckets of paint Alonzo has." Sure, they were _Alonzo's_, and Jemima would flip out, but getting covered in paint—as long as I didn't get stuck in a tub again—would get my mind off things. And for once, I wouldn't look down and see white. My blessing and my curse.

"Sounds like a barrel of monkeys." Presto remarked.

"No, buckets of paint!" Etcetera cooed.

"Oh, you know what I _meeean_." Presto sighed, smirking. For a second, she sounded like Etcetera.

"Onwards, Watson!" Etcetera shouted, spinning behind me and pushing me by the shoulders.

As we reached Alonzo's den (previously Alonzo and Cassandra's den), the five of us went into stealth mode. Munkustrap was on duty, so Alonzo could have been anywhere. Just in case, we had forced Jemima to take the lead, so if he spotted us, the rest of us could hide and she could use her wits to… do something.

Jemima said something I couldn't hear, but the others could. She turned around, looking at us with wide—wide_r_—eyes. Etcetera, who was in front of me, said, "Hide! Hide! He's home!"

Electra, Presto, Etcetera and me rushed into an area where Alonzo would find us. A tight squeeze between two large junk piles. Jemima peered in, obviously not wanting to be alone with Alonzo so suddenly. She hissed something along the lines of, _he's sleeping! I'll seem creepy! _But Etcetera pushed her back out into the open. I allowed myself to zone out.

I wouldn't be able to hear anyway.

* * *

_Jemima_

No. No, no, no! I didn't want to be here! How come I had to be the one to deal with Alonzo? Sure, we were… _close_, but jeez! Couldn't they tell how mortified I was?

I was ready to wet myself, until I saw Alonzo's sleeping face. Alonzo was an amazing tom. Presto and Etcetera would have said he was _sexy_, or _hot_, but I would have called him beautiful. I had no idea what to do. There I was, crouching inside Alonzo's den, gawking at him as he slept. I just wanted to curl up next to him, but we weren't there yet, and I was supposed to be getting his paint.

I quickly crawled over to him on all fours, then stopped at his side, on my haunches. I reached for his shoulder, hesitating. I needed to figure out what I would say. _Alonzo, may I please use your paint? _But what if he asked why? _Me and the other kittens wanted to play. _That was okay, right? No. What if I seemed immature? And what if it was weird asking him for paint after our exchange earlier? Why hadn't I told Victoria yet?

"Jemima?" his voice rang out. Oh Everlasting! He woke up? I didn't even say anything! I was _silent_!

"Oh, um, hi… sorry to wake you… um…" I sputtered, twiddling my thumbs like an idiot. "I was just wondering… um…"

"Yes?" he said, reaching his hand up to my face. I could feel my face burning, getting even hotter as I looked down at him. He looked sleepy, but still unbearably handsome, with a small smile on his face. I just squatted there, staring at him with huge kitten eyes.

"Jemima…?" he said, his voice almost song-like.

"Oh! I… uh, me and the other kittens"—bad choice of words, he cringed, probably realizing I wasn't a queen just yet—"…we were wondering if we could… useyourpaint!" I sputtered, squeezing my eyes shut. He chuckled, and sat up.

"Of course." He said, kissing my forehead. I was very proud of myself for not melting right then and there. I nodded, watching him as he disappeared from view. I could almost feel the other kittens preparing to bombard me with questions about this.

After a few moments, he emerged, holding two buckets in one paw, and one in the other. Orange, pink, and blue.

"I'll carry them out for you, all right?" he said, his voice polite and kind—his protector voice, as I had come to call it. I nodded, getting up slowly. Alonzo was a tall tom, almost as tall as Tugger—who, being a maine coon, was bigger than all of us, but it suited him, quite well really—and compared to him, I was like a newborn. I was small, there was no getting around it.

"Thank you…" I said quietly. He grinned at me, and I knew he would have offered me his paw if he wasn't holding paint.

When we exited his den, I was pleased to see the other kittens had made it out into the main clearing silently and without him detecting them. They were waiting for me—_us_—with too-innocent looks on their faces. Etcetera was whistling. Electra's tail was whipping around restlessly.

"Here you go, girls… let's not get in trouble, shall we?" Alonzo said, setting the paint buckets down. Without thinking about it, I nuzzled him as best I could without him bending down. On my tippy-toes, I reached his shoulders by just a hair. He nuzzled back, and I could see the others doing their best not to squeal and ambush me.

"See you," Alonzo whispered, and was off, saluting to the other kittens. When he was out of ear shot, Etcetera bulleted next to me, a sly look on her face.

"We'll need to drill you on this _later… _We have business to attend to." She said.

_Presto_

To say the least, Madigan was not happy to see me enter the house looking like something out of a Jackson Pollock painting. Nor was Jenny, or Jelly.

In the end, a lot of cats joined our paint fight, leaving the junkyard—and many of us—a splattered mess. Jenny scolded Jemima, Electra, Etcetera, and Victoria for a very long time. She sent me home with Skimbleshanks—who had returned from one of his voyages, just in time to be hit square in the face with pink paint—so Madigan could give me a bath.

Sighing, Madigan picked me up with hands in leather gloves. She was ready to be splashed, scratched, and bitten. "If you're nice to me, Presto, I'll give you a gift." She said. I calmed slightly, but still gave her hell.

I screamed and scratched as Madigan lowered me into the warm bath water. Petri watched from the doorway, keeled over with laughter. Katherine leaned against the wall, a cup of coffee in her hand. She was quite pleased with this. _I swear, those two could be siblings… if Petri wasn't a cat._

I think it took Madigan almost an hour to get all of the paint out. It was still pretty wet when I got home—you could tell by the pink, orange, and blue pawprints all over the floor—so it was relatively easy to get most of it out. I was still screaming my face off. I had gotten out of the tub a few times, making sure to get Petri splashed and soapy. I had gotten on top of the bookshelf in Madigan's room, thinking it was safe, but Katherine got out the step stool, and grabbed me by the scruff of the neck. Then she made sure to wash any and all paint off of her hands.

But then came my face. Madigan tried to scrub my face with a wet q-tip, but gave up, saying, "It'll just chip off."

When she was finally done, Madigan curled me up in a black towel, and sat down on the couch. I was cold. My fur was spiky and damp. Katherine was watching a soap opera in a strange language. I refused to look at Madigan or Petri—I was _pissed. _Hell hath no fury like a wet cat.

"Hey, Pres," Madigan's voice rang out during a commercial break. "Do you want your gift?"

_Of course! I love gifts. _Meow. Nodding, Madigan unwrapped me. The cold hit me like a blizzard—_these chicks need to turn up the heat, man_—and I thought I was going to shiver. Madigan reached over the side of the couch, and pulled out a pink bag with black lettering on it. It was glittery, and I immediately thought of Mistoffelees. I was being so _good! _I hadn't thought of him for so long. Instead, I was thinking of a boy Madigan was seeing—by the name of Coletrane.

"Your bow is getting tattered, and now there's paint all over it, Presto," Madigan began. My ears pressed against my skull. No, not the bow. "So, I thought you might want something new." With that, Madigan put her hand in the bag, tissue paper rustling from within. I stared at it, eyes narrowed.

Slowly, Madigan pulled out the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. A pure black collar, decorating with round, shiny studs. It was gorgeous… but no bell, no bows. "Do you like it?" Madigan asked, hopeful. My only response was the lifting of my ears. Slowly, Madigan undid my bow, setting the fabric on the coffee table. I said _adieu _to my dear bell. Its chipped, gold paint, familiar tinkle, and overall amazingness.

I stared at my bell longingly as Madigan put the new collar around my neck. I felt naked. My chest fluff was fully exposed now. The new collar didn't graze my jaw like the bow did, and it actually felt heavier. When the collar was on good and tight, Madigan put her hands up, like she was a criminal. A jazzy one.

"But that's not all!" she said excitedly. Madigan shoved her hand back into the pink bag making it crinkle. Slowly, she pulled out something even more beautiful than the collar.

A tiny, shiny, silver bell.

She shook it proudly, and it made a quiet, wonderful jingling noise. I had to remind myself not to let my jaw drop. The new bell wasn't as big as my other one, and it was silver, not gold, but it was just as beautiful and just as fabulous.

"It's real silver, Presto. It's not painted metal this time." She cooed happily, attaching the bell to my new collar. It felt so new, and so cool. I never felt happier. Madigan petted my head, and I gladly head butted her hand. Grinning, I curled up on to her lap, and let the sounds of yelling Spanish people put me to sleep.

As soon as I left for the junkyard the next day, I would shake my head like crazy.

* * *

Happy note? At least for Presto.

I'm sorry it got so list-like. I wanted to post this, and add the bit about Presto's collar.

So… suggestions! I've only gotten one… and who knows what crazy pairings I'll come up with.

If you want a list of the ones we already now about, ask, and I'll tell you in a review reply.

Review, and I'll get you a new collar. ;D


	6. Round six

**Notes: **Well. Here we are.

After this chapter, things will be getting into gear. Expect a lot of POV changes, and, as I much as I regret it, slower updates and shorter chapters. The chapters have been fifteen to twenty pages, but now they'll be around ten to fifteen. After August sixth, though, I will hopefully get

I've gotten two pairing suggestions—They'll be introduced in the next chapter. I have some stuff already written, but I wanted to get this up, so they'll go in the next chapter.

You're all going to _hate_ me for what I did with Etcy. She's still hyper, of course, but I've stretched her intelligence, and now she's secretly rather depressed. I told you I'd be shedding new lights on the characters. I _didn't _tell you I'd be completely abusing how open to interpretation CATS is.

By the way, cats probably don't have godchildren and godparents, but these cats do. And I want to introduce another OC—made by _you_. I'm going to make a contest.

Onwards!

P.S. Lyrics from "airplanes" belong to B.o.b and Hayley Williams, I think.

* * *

_Etcetera_

"You're late," my "mystery tom" remarked as I crested the junk pile. It was very dark, and very cold. I made an annoying sputtering noise as I hoisted myself up to safety. I smiled at him, and crawled over to the clothes dryer he was leaning against, his arms crossed.

"No I'm not, you're _early_," I whined, slinking over to him.

"Just keep telling yourself that, kit." Said Munkustrap, as I sidled up against him.

"Munkus," I said quietly, "is it weird that I'm friends with your daughter?" Munkustrap laughed, and I felt a little stupid. I looked up at him. Demeter was so lucky. She didn't have to hide her relationship with him. She was practically expected to shower him with love whenever she saw him. Me and Rumpelteazer on the other hand… if anyone found out about _our _relationships with him, he'd probably be looked at so much differently. Negatively. I didn't want that for him. I just didn't want to hide. I was a kitten; I wasn't supposed to have secrets.

Yes, I knew about Rumpelteazer. I didn't care. Rumpelteazer was cool. If there had to be another queenkit, I would prefer it was she. Electra was taken. Victoria… now, I'd just be jealous of her. I don't compare. Plus, she's got Mungojerrie and Plato. Jemima had Alonzo, or Mistoffelees, if she could decide. Presto said Munkustrap intimidated her—though I wouldn't mind it if she was the other queenkit. She was a lot like me. Just not as smart.

"It's not weird, not at all." He said, stroking my upper arm. I rested my paw on his chest, hoping I could feel his heartbeat. No such luck. I was slightly disappointed—I wanted to be able to make his heart race. But I was okay with it. He felt _relaxed _with me.

"Do you love me?" I asked, bracing myself for whatever answer I got.

"Of course."

"Do you love Rumpelteazer?"

"Yes."

"Do you love Demeter?"

"Yes."

"Is it really possible for you to love three queens?" I asked, sitting up straight. Munkustrap looked slightly disappointed—which, I had to admit, made me feel a little better.

"I've got a heart big enough for a hundred, Etcetera. And I love you three most. Now don't be a stranger." He said, placing his paw on my back. I reluctantly went back down, resting my head on his shoulder. "Good girl," he said smugly. Munkustrap acted differently towards me—and presumably Rumpelteazer and Demeter. He was cockier, not as reserved, but he still had that kind, Munkustrap charm.

I bit my lip, keeping myself from asking him whom he loved best. Sometimes, I thought I was more curious than Tugger. Oh, I still adored Tugger. Even with our other toms, all of the kittens would still love Tugger. You just couldn't stop loving him. Seriously.

I knew I never had a chance with him. It didn't mean I wouldn't try, or at least pretend to. I knew Tugger had older, prettier queens around him. Like Bomba, even if she was having some _relations _with Plato. He had Cassandra, as well. And her sister, Exotica. And even another certain queen I knew. And then there were the other kittens. I didn't stand a chance, but I knew it. Contrary to popular belief, I was a highly intelligent little kitten, and I was very aware of myself. I knew everything that was going on in the tribe. I knew about the affairs, the love triangles, everything. And I knew that I wouldn't have a relationship with Munkustrap for long.

Tugger knew about Munkustrap. I told him. I tell him everything. We have a little gossip group with Alonzo—and Alonzo knew too. I may be his "number one fan," but I can control myself. Sometimes. Okay, not very often, but I was getting better, I promise!

"Munkus, I'm tired." I said after a long, content silence. Our breathing had fallen into unison, and only the sounds of rustling leaves and passing cars filled the air. It was chilly.

"You should get home, then…"

"I don't want to go home yet."

"I know, I know. I don't want you to, either." He said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I grinned, nuzzling his chest.

"Can't I just sleep here, Munkus?" I asked, my voice whiny. Munkustrap sighed melodramatically.

"Okay. Only for a little while, but then you have to sneak home. All right?"

"Right." I said, scooting even closer to him so I got all of his warmth. The chill seemed to disappear. I tried to fall asleep, but I couldn't, so I was left pretending. A painful feeling gnawed at my stomach—I was losing him, I knew it. I was losing him just as our relationship started. I could never compare to Demeter, or even Rumpelteazer.

I'd just have to cherish this, and grin when he leaves me.

* * *

Today felt a bit difficult. The pain grew and grew, with every time my eyes led me to Munkustrap, or when I caught some sort of show of affection he received from Demeter. Jealously knocked at my insides. It whispered sweet words to me, and I found myself losing respect or any friendly love I had for Demeter. It lowered with every loving glance she gave to Munkustrap; it lowered with every look she discreetly gave to Alonzo, or Coricopat, or worse—Tugger.

I honestly thought she hated him. However, my gossip buddies told me otherwise. It truly baffled me how open the Jellicles were with their relationships. Alonzo and Tugger were very good friends, even though they both had something going on with Demeter—and honestly seemed to loathe on another. It didn't seem to matter that Alonzo had something with Jemima, Tugger's niece—or Cassandra, who had been with both of them with some point.

I was _such _a kitten. I just couldn't completely comprehend all of this, and it sucked. I always wondered just when all of this infidelity began. Whenever it did, as soon as I was brought into it, it got harder and harder to keep being the hyperactive kitten. I had baggage of my own. I surely wasn't the kind of kitten who used noise to cover her pain, but my life wasn't peaches and cream. It was filled with jealousy, anger, sadness, and a third feeling I couldn't place my fingers on—to be expressed with humorous whines or to not be expressed at all. It was suffocating.

My best friend, Victoria, was gorgeous. She had toms throwing themselves at her ever since the junkyard was graced with her birth. Even as a blind kitten, Jellylorum had told her—I simply overheard, honestly—the toms cuddled and played with her most. Electra was pretty as well. Actually, her face might have been prettier than Victoria's, maybe.

Don't get me started on Jemima. She's beautiful. Those big eyes, the red and black fur, and the petite frame, all congregated together to make her one big wad of adorable kitten. Of everyone, I was probably the most jealous of her.

I also felt ungrateful. I had Munkustrap, who—while all the queens new he was taken (just not by two kits and a queen)—was very sought after. I saw those eyes Cassandra made at him, or that tail flick Exotica did. Munkustrap was perfect, in every sense of the word. Even if he was cocky around me, or maybe I thought he still thought of me as a kit (which I was, but I'd be a queen soon!), he was still perfect. Actually, those parts of him probably made him more irresistible.

"Etce?" came Victoria's voice. It was too quiet, and I strained to hear her. A few other cats' footsteps, probably Electra and Jemima's, accompanied hers. I was sitting on a junk pile, secluded from the rest of the junkyard. A lot of us kits had been going off by ourselves lately—it was my turn, I supposed. I didn't want anyone to find me. Except for maybe Alonzo or Tugger. At that time, I needed some advice, and they usually had some. Even if they were the flirts of the tribe—Tugger more than Alonzo, of course—they did give good advice.

"Yeah?" I replied airily, turning around to look at them. If I could make them think I was fantasizing instead of wallowing in self-pity, they'd leave me alone. Presto, Victoria, and Electra were looking up at me. No Jemima. I assumed she was with Alonzo (who could have been with Demeter or Cassandra), or with Coricopat (who could have been with her or Demeter), or any other toms she could lead on while clinging to her innocence. So talking to Tugger and Alonzo was out. I could still talk to Tugger though. That was if I could get Presto, Victoria, and Electra off my tail. Why wasn't Victoria on a date with Plato? He was probably with Bomba…

"Oh, we were just wondering if you wanted to hang out… You kinda disappeared, we didn't know what was up." Electra said, looking puzzled. I guess my pretend daydreaming didn't work.

"No thanks, I'm tired today… sorry." I said, shaking my head, then stretching. I was a good actress, most of the time. The others nodded dumbly.

"It's okay. If you change your mind, you know where to find us." Victoria said, before spinning on her heel. _If only she knew… _I thought, watching as Electra waved before catching up to her. _If only she knew, and if only she knew that _I _knew. _The words felt cramped in my head, so I squeezed my eyes shut in a feeble attempt to change the subject.

"See you, Etcetera," Presto said slowly, then quickly turned around and ran to catch up to Electra and Victoria, successfully slipping on Everlasting knows what. I turned back to the West, watching as the sun set. I would note be seeing Munkustrap tonight. I would be alone.

* * *

"Okay, what's up with you, kit?" Tugger asked. I sat in front of him and Alonzo, legs crossed. Apparently they—of all cats—had caught on to my damp mood and were worried. I could tell by the small amount of urgency in Tugger's voice, and the identical looks on both of their faces. They were still intimidating.

I pressed my lips together into a straight line. How would I say this? I had a lot I was thinking about.

"Well…" I began, twiddling my thumbs. "I feel… inadequate."

"How so?" Alonzo asked, leaning back. We were in a small clearing in the junkyard, surrounded by especially tall junk piles. The interior of the junkyard was getting stale.

"Think about it." I said. "Alonzo, you're head over heels for Jemima. And she's… gorgeous."

"Right."

"Hey, that's my niece you're talking about." Tugger teased, resting the back of his head in his paws. He had gotten taller, I could tell. Even if he was a grown tom, it felt like he was getting taller all the time. Though Tugger was the tallest tom, he wasn't the biggest. Without that mane of his, Tugger was actually really slender. Of course, only I would notice that.

"Yeah, yeah. Continue, Etce…?"

"Victoria's beautiful too. I mean, you simply can't deny it. Even Electra's really pretty. I feel stupid." I said, looking down. My face was hot.

"Firstly, Etcetera," Tugger said sternly. I looked up. I'd heard that tone very few times, which was usually when he decided to be responsible or something. "You are _so _incredibly smart that it actually worries me sometimes, and secondly—"

"Have you _looked _at yourself lately?" Alonzo interrupted. "It's like in the past three days you've aged a million years."

"… Wait, is that a good thing?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

"Yes." Alonzo said, crossing his arms.

"You're all beautiful now, Etcetera!" Tugger said, tacking back the pep-talk reigns. "My brother's adorable godchild is all grown up!" he said, pretending to cry. I couldn't help but laugh. Alonzo and Tugger always knew how to cheer me up.

We were an interesting trio. A hyperactive kitten—well, usually hyperactive—a notoriously indecisive Maine coon, and a black and white tom who could be a flirt but still responsible.

"Thanks," I said, grinning. There were other things I wanted to talk about, but I wouldn't dare ruin this happy mood.

"Anything else on your mind?" asked Tugger, gently thumping my forehead with the base of his paw.

"Hey!" I whined, still grinning. "_Aaaaaannnyyywaaaay_, I'm good… what's going on with you two?"

And so we launched into our usual banter. And I kept everything else to myself. Bad choice.

* * *

_Presto_

How did this happen? How did I get into this situation?

Oh, of course I knew. I lost the race, sliding on god-forsaken tin foil.

How we reached that point in the conversation escaped me. All of the queenkits and tomkits (save for Etcetera, who had been gone all day) had gotten in some sort of argument, over whether or not queenkits ran faster than tomkits. It was so stupid.

The wagers? If the toms won, their runner had to hang out with a queen of _the other toms' _choosing for three hours. Same for the girls, but they chose a tom.

The runners? Mistoffelees and myself.

The winner? Mistoffelees.

The queen chosen by _the other toms _with assistance from _the other queens_?

Me.

Why? Was it so easy to tell I liked him? Why couldn't the runners have been different, or why couldn't they have chosen another queen?

It was all part of their plan, their sick plan. Absent Etcetera had called it _Operation: Matchmaker_. So I was stuck here, sitting next to Mistoffelees, as the other kits hid around the corner, shushing each other so they could hear us.

"They know we can hear them, right?" I said quietly. Mistoffelees shook his head, nearly as bored as I was. Half an hour had passed, ut it felt like and eternity or two. The other kits probably expected up to make out or something. At the thought of that, I cooked up a plan. I leaned into Mistoffelees, and whispered, "We should make sex noises to freak them out."

The black and white tom scooted away from me, eyes wide. I gawked at him, surprised by his reaction. Prude. "All I heard," he said, narrowing his eyes, "was _we, should, _and _sex_."

I blushed. Well! That was just wrong. "Oh my _God_, you are so stupid!" I said, as a laugh crept up my throat. "You should have seen your face! And I didn't even suggest _that_!" I said, clutching my stomach. Sure, I was embarrassed at the misunderstanding, but that was pretty fucking hilarious.

"Wait, what _did_ you say?"

"You know what? Never mind. I'll just let you think whatever your sick little mind wants to think, Quaxoffelees." I sighed, noting that the kittens' constant hushing and whispered had ceased.

"You haven't called me that in a while,"Mistoffelees noted. He was right. I, and most everyone else, had gotten into the habit of just calling him Mistoffelees, and variations on that. Though Tugger had done that all along.

"I know. It's fun to say, though." I said, standing up. I looked around the corner that the other kittens had been hiding behind. They were gone. Huh. Mistoffelees got up and stood next to me.

"Oh dear." I cooed, shaking my head and crossing my arms. "Those poor children must have heard what you said." I accused, looking at Mistoffelees with mock horror.

"Hey-! I wasn't the one making indecent proposals."

"Hey, I didn't say what yo think I did."

"Then what _did _you say?"

"Not telling." I hissed, sticking my tongue at him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated. I had gotten quite good at that, and—with the occasional help from Etcetera—making him blush. I was quite proud of that, especially with that huge tumor of a crush I had on him.

"…Should we go back to the clearing?" Mistoffelees asked after a moment of silence. I shook my head.

"They'll yell at us." _Actually, I just want to spend time with you._

And so we walked. And talked. We walked and talked about stupid things, while one bothersome question fought to pass my lips—_do you like me? _

What were we talking about? I didn't know. Some little man inside of me was controlling my actions, making me speak and carry on a normal conversation. Meanwhile, my mind was so far away I thought I'd never be able to find it. I was walking next to Mistoffelees, _close _to Mistoffelees, and holding an actual conversation with him.

And that brings me to this point. Quaxoffelees and I, sitting on top of a junk pile as the sun got lower and lower, depriving half of the world of its warmth, leaving it cold and blue. To the east, the first star of the night emerged.

"Presto?" said Mistoffelees, snapping me out of it.

"Hmm?" I said, looking at him with a pleasantly surprised face. He shook his head in faked disappointment. I was rubbing off on him. "_Yeeees?_" I asked, bringing my legs to my chest and resting my chin on my knees.

"Nothing, you just looked like you were going to fall asleep."

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking." I said, lifting my head up. Everlasting, Mistoffelees was just wonderful. I just wanted to do something—as indecent as that sounds. I didn't know what. I just wanted to let him know I liked him, without having to say those words. Without having to speak. But how could I do that?

_

* * *

Etcetera_

Alonzo and Tugger were long gone. I was alone again, and I didn't mind this time. I was updated on all of their drama, and I felt a whole lot better about myself. Sure, I didn't know if they were complimenting me just to get it out of the way, but I didn't want to think they were.

At this time, I was scaling the tops of junk piles, humming a little tune. It was quiet, the faint murmur of the main clearing and the sounds of human civilization the only things penetrating the silence. A plane passed overhead.

_Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?_

Of course not. It wasn't night yet, and planes aren't stars. It didn't mean I couldn't dream. I wanted to make a wish, but resisted. It was silly, kittenish. I wanted to act more like a queen. If I looked more like one as Alonzo and Tugger had said, then it was about time I acted like one. I did, sort of, didn't I? I was smart, wasn't I? Sure, I was loud, and I squealed, but I was smart. If I quieted down, I would probably be the best-behaved kitten. Maybe _I _could be the favorite instead of Victoria and Jemima, maybe I could be the one the adults depended on instead of Electra.

I hopped from a tall junk pile down to a shorter one, nearly losing my footing. As I regained my balance, I heard faint voices. One was Presto. The other was male… Mistoffelees. What were they doing together? Alone, even? I knew Presto liked Mistoffelees, but I wasn't sure if the feeling was mutual. There were a few hints, but I never asked. Which I should have—that's what friends do, right?

I carefully stepped over to another junk pile of the same height, curiosity taking over. I cringed at every little sound my footsteps made. I climbed on to a junk pile that was right next to theirs, but taller. I accidentally kicked a tin can, wincing as it hit the ground. They stopped talking for a moment, then resumed. I looked down at them, making sure they couldn't see me. To my surprise, Presto leaned into Mistoffelees.

And kissed him.

* * *

Yay! Kissy kissssyyy.

Sorry for how rushed this chapter is. I wanted to get it up, and get to the kiss. That's why so much dialogue is chopped out. I might add some "deleted scenes" when this is all over.

Go see my contest (It's called "Presto's best friend contest")! Review, and you can do junk pile parkour with Etcy and me.

Thanks for reading, my children…


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